Meg and Seron: Maximilian's Treasure
by Historyman101
Summary: The long-awaited sequel to the first Meg and Seron fanfiction ever. After learning the secret behind the model ships, the Newspaper Club and recently confessed Meg and Seron plan an expedition to the old Green Island battlefields to find what Meg's grandfather left buried. However, there are dangers at every turn, and the treasure may not be what they think it is...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note** : You thought I was gone? No, I was just very, very busy with many different things. Namely, going to graduate school (and graduating), my father's death, and finishing up a historical novel series for publication (currently searching for a literary agent for that, not that you asked). However, in the time since I finished, I went back to an old fandom that has been dormant for a long time, and one that I was hoping to finish: Allison and Lillia. I wrote the first ever fanfiction for Meg and Seron involving finding the coordinates to a long-lost treasure. Now, it's time to finish their adventure at last.

After so many years, I am proud to present the followup to Meg and Seron: Secret of the Firefly.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Meg and Seron, or Allison and Lillia. Meg and Seron are characters of Keiichi Sigsawa and the anime is the property of Madhouse Studio. I only own the story and original characters here.**

 **Meg and Seron: Maximilian's Treasure**

 **by Historyman101**

 **Chapter One: Domestic Politics**

 **April, 3306 World Calendar**

South of the Capital, there was a place renowned for its hot springs. The Academy Photography Club had designated it as the place for their spring vacation, that is, with one crucial exception. Saya Kobayashi had said to all of her club mates she only planned on staying for one day. Ostensibly, it was to attend to family business back home, but it was a veil to mask her true intentions: to finally claim what was hers. Seron Maxwell, the academy's star and idol, was now officially taken by a Bezelese girl, Megmica Straussky. Of course, with all the photographs of them lip locking plastered around the school, it left many a girl crestfallen. Saya, on the other hand, felt nothing but contempt and betrayal for the young boy…and his newfound love.

Just the thought of that ditzy girl made Saya seethe in anger. Damn that Bezelese girl! What had Meg achieved that she did not? She was the offspring of the Roxchean Chiefs of Staff! Her parents were well-known members of society! Her rival was a simple transfer student. It wouldn't matter for long, Saya thought. She had ways with getting what she wanted.

"Ms. Kobayashi?"

Just then, her train of sinister plotting was interrupted by one of her friends at the hot spring. There were five of them altogether, and they were determined to have her participate in this activity as a club. Saya wiped away a strand of midnight black hair from her face and darted her eyes to the speaker, a dark-haired underclassman. In the aftermath of Saya's spat with Seron and the entourage of his Newspaper Club, there were rumblings amongst the others she was in over her head.

The fact it was _she_ who caught Meg and Seron together that night gave rise to fears she was taking this matter of love too seriously than others.

"Yes, Lydia? What is it?"

"Is something bothering you?" the dark-haired underclassman, Lydia, asked.

"Nothing," Saya lied. "Nothing at all. Why?"

"You don't have to hold anything from us, Ms. Kobayashi. It's okay."

Saya scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A brunette girl in Saya's year spoke up, seeing through her facade.

"Stop being coy, Saya. It's obvious to us that you haven't been yourself since you saw Mr. Maxwell with Ms. Straussky. Something is going on in your head and we have a right to know what it is."

Saya sighed and ran her fingers through her black hair as she slowly sank into the spring. The water and hot steam consumed her and seemed to fuel the rage and anger bottled inside her.

"I plan on getting Seron back, of course. He _is_ my future husband, after all."

"So, you plan on stealing him away from his girlfriend?" Lydia remarked.

"What girlfriend?" Saya shot back. "You mean that Bezelese girl? Last I recall, she had nothing to her name. She hasn't done anything to earn the title 'girlfriend.' He and I were engaged to be married! It was a family agreement. Doesn't that mean something?"

"Sounds rather cliché if you ask me," a redhead sitting across from Saya commented, sullenly.

Saya's head swished around and her brown eyes threw sharpened daggers at the redhead.

"You are in no position to judge me, Frances!"

The redhead sank further down the hot spring, not wanting the wrath of Saya to be unleashed upon her.

"Maybe you should try to reconsider," Lydia offered. "This is the 32nd Century. Arranged marriage isn't something anyone does anymore. You shouldn't have to follow your family's wishes if you don't agree with them. Besides, you heard what Seron said: it's an agreement he barely remembers. Chances are his family didn't tell him one thing about it."

Saya glared at her dark-haired friend.

"And just what does that mean?"

"You should find someone else worth your time. Besides, you're not actually in love with Mr. Maxwell, aren't you?"

Saya said nothing to that question, one she preferred not to answer. In truth, she didn't quite know the reasons why she was doing this herself; all she felt was betrayal of an agreement between families. It had to count for something.

"Hmph, enough already. I have no time for this nonsense! If you won't help me, then I best be on my way."

She rose up from the spring, the mist conveniently covering her tan-skinned, buxom figure, and stomped out from the establishment altogether. She had heard quite enough of the garbage these "friends" were giving her. So much for their support; she would have to do this alone. It was time she left to begin the expedition.

"I will not be brushed aside," Saya muttered angrily to herself, "I will not give up just because he found someone else."

The Capital Terminal was extremely crowded, mainly with students heading home for spring vacation. On the far platform, a lonely regional train with Tuscan red passenger cars waited for orders to depart from the conductor. Its destination was a small port city on the river, and a place of interest for a group of six young students of the 4th Capital Secondary School.

Meg and Seron walked together, hands locked together admiring the train that would carry them to the beginning of their newest adventure: a search of Green Island for the treasure left behind by Meg's grandfather, Maximilian. However, Seron expressed fears of something larger and closer to home than any mishaps he and his friends may encounter on the island. Namely, the threat of Saya Kobayashi.

He truly didn't know how he could have forgotten such an important linchpin in his life as her. Despite Meg's continued and heartfelt feelings of forgiveness, Seron still could not help but feel some guilt for neglecting to remember or mention it. Throughout the taxicab ride to the station, he thought long and hard about what to do.

"Stop looking so gloomy, Seron!" Meg said, pouting. "We won't be in Montessaret until tomorrow! What could happen to us in that time?"

"Sorry. I'm just thinking." Meg couldn't help but smile at that.

"You're _always_ thinking. Well, turn that brain of yours off for a while. This is supposed to be a fun spring break, isn't it?"

Seron couldn't help but keep an eye on his four friends. Now that they were a couple, the stoic boy would be expecting more teasing from them. As he thought just what manner of torture he could endure from them, Meg's gentle hands touched his face, and brought him back to gazing only into her dark indigo eyes.

"Seron," she said, slightly more stern than before, "you don't have to hide anything from me. What's bothering you?"

"Well…since we're a couple now, I am wondering just what the others will say. Larry's already started on the jokes, and you know how Jenny can be…"

"If she tries something, she answers to me."

Without another word, her lips pressed to his in a soothing kiss. In that instant, all of Seron's fears and concerns melted, leaving only the gentle scent of perfume in her hair and the faint taste of strawberry shortcake from her lips. She was known to have a passion for sweets. Something he would have to keep in mind for this journey.

"Hey lovebirds!" Jenny called. "The train's about to board! Better hurry or you're gonna get left behind!"

Seron, snapped out of his personal heaven, proceeded to head on over there, with an aggravated sigh. Meg could only giggle, seeing a small hint of irritation on his face that their moment had been interrupted. It didn't bother her in the slightest, since she knew it was the start of something, rather than the end.

The two boarded the train following their friends, just as the conductor gave the last call. They had only started down the narrow corridor between the seats when the engine blew its whistle. Suddenly, the cars lurched forward at the first chuff of the engine, meaning the train was now on its way to their port of call.

The momentum was so sudden it almost sent the young students toppling over each other and falling flat onto the carpeted floor, baggage and all. Jenny caught herself on a vacant seat, and manage to save the whole crew, but it just made the matter of filing away their belongings more pressing.

"Okay, club," she said, the early morning light highlighting her ruby eyes, "first thing's first: we find our compartments and put away our baggage. Once that's done, we'll all meet in the lounge car to talk about how this whole expedition shakes out!"

"Don't we already know what will shake out?" Natalia asked.

Jenny said nothing, but averted her eyes in slight embarrassment.

"S-sure, we do. Just gotta go over it one last time, you know?"

"You forgot, didn't you?"

Jenny didn't answer, as it was clear to Natalia, who only knowingly shook her head. The troupe made their way through the train, searching for their room numbers. The train would arrive in Montessaret the following morning, and they would need their rest. Travelling to and exploring Green Island would be no small task, and demand every ounce of energy.

Meg found her room, which was a triple shared by Natalia and Jenny. Seron, Larry, and Nicholas' room was right across. Meg stepped in, and was immediately enraptured. On one side of the compartment stood a small door to a full bathroom, complete with a sink, toilet, shower, and complementary toiletries. On the other side were two beds bolted to the wall in a bunk style, like what she would find in a scout's camping ground, flanked by a third just underneath the compartment window. They were covered with white sheets, topped by a matching pillow with a small wrapped piece of chocolate placed on top. It was like living in a hotel on wheels.

"How much did you spend to get these rooms?" Meg asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Jenny reassured her. "Won't set us back too much; this is nothing compared to securing a ship and diving equipment!"

The last two words piqued Meg's interest.

"Diving equipment?"

"That's what I said. We're not just exploring Green Island: we'll be diving down to the shipwreck!"

"Diving down?" Jenny sighed.

"Is there an echo in here? Of course! We can't assume the treasure isn't inside the ship."

Meg sat down on the bunk bed, slightly overwhelmed. It was one thing to go down to the island and search it for the treasure, but actually _diving_ underwater to the wreck itself? Just how much had the club invested into finding her grandfather's treasure? And that was saying nothing about the potential underwater risks as well.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet, Jenny. I-I mean, w-what if there are ancient skeletons inside, guarding it?"

Jenny snickered at Meg's reason for apprehension.

"Oh c'mon, Meg, use your head! It's just an old shipwreck, not a dungeon!"

"Besides," Natalia offered, sliding her suitcase into the closet, "we're getting help from the Roxchean Navy. They're lending us a submersible to explore the ship in depth."

"Why didn't either of you tell me that sooner?" Meg sighed with relief. "Well, thank goodness for that. Now, I don't feel so nervous."

This did not even entertain another problem; dealing with Saya in the future. Her very appearance intimidated Meg in many ways. They way her cold eyes glared at her. The condescending, over confident tone of voice. Her tall stature and curvy figure. Meg never thought she would ever have a rival for Seron's love. She undoubtedly was planning something to upset their entire expedition. Every insidious picture of how she could run interference flashed in her mind like a slide show. How far would she go to stop them? What would she do to win Seron back? What if she succeeded?

The Bezelese girl glanced at both classmates and blinked. She flashed a smile of illusion, not wanting to burden her friends. Not when they were enjoying themselves.

"Is something wrong, Meg?" Jenny pressed.

"No way! I'm fine, really." Natalia, who was more observant, already saw through the façade Meg created.

"You are worried about Kobayashi, aren't you?" Natalia asked.

Meg looked back at Natalia, surprised that she could already tell what was on her mind so quickly. She wished she had such sharp perceptive skills like her brown-haired friend. She slowly nodded her head, fear in her indigo eyes.

"She seemed really serious about winning Seron over. I don't know what she's capable of."

"Meg, we're all here for you. If Saya tries anything, she'll have to get through us first. Right, Jenny?" Jenny grinned as she adjusted one of her butterfly hair ornaments.

"You've worked too hard to give up Seron, now. If you really love him, you gotta be ready to fight for him, too."

"F-fight?"

"Of course. Like, if she tries to kidnap him or something, you whack her upside the head!"

Jenny demonstrated with a swing of her fist through the air, followed by a roundhouse kick. She almost knocked over a bedside lamp in her excitement, and hit the door frame. Natalia's eyebrows rose skeptically at her friend's display.

"Don't you think that's going a little far, Jen?"

"Why? A girl's gotta fight for what she wants, doesn't she?"

 _A girl's got to fight for what she wants._

Those last words were etched into her brain, and provided her with a greater resolve. She was never the type of girl to resort to any sort of combat. Megmica Straussky's appearance was paperweight compared to Saya Kobayashi. But, when push comes to shove, she knows how to whack a thug or two with a pipe or a bat…or a phone receiver. Seron was surprised more than once with what she was truly capable of when under pressure.

The Bezelese girl nodded to herself, taking note of Jenny's advice.

"Thank you, Jennifer, Natalia. I am so glad to have friends like you."

"Think nothing of it," Natalia said, smiling. "You know, I'm actually a little jealous."

The Bezelese transfer student tilted her head in confusion. She never thought she'd hear those words from Natalia, who always seemed confident and a model student.

"Jealous of me? How so?"

"You've gotten farther with Seron than I ever have with Larry. You two only met last summer, and now you're an item! I'd say that's an accomplishment."

A lock of her violet-tinged hair was twirled around her finger as Meg blushed.

"Well, we've only just started dating, after all. We just kiss and hold hands from time to time. Waiting for someone to confess their feelings is a huge challenge but in the end, it was worth the wait."

"All the more reason you need to protect what you have now."

"Too true."

Jenny burst out of the girls' compartments, and led everyone to the lounge car. Seron, Larry and Nicholas had to dash through the vestibules, lest they be shut off and lose sight of their classmates. Seron's eyes were focused like a sniper on his target: Meg's pigtails, bouncing with each step taken as she walked in-between the seats, laughing and chatting with Natalia and Jenny.

Meg…

Even though they were official for only two days, it seemed like a lifetime ago when he finally swallowed his fear and said the words he longed to say. Sitting across from her in that café, all the pent-up emotion and stresses finally released, was the most blissful moment of his young life. It was a shame, he thought, that the date had to be spoiled by Saya and her shutterbugs.

He quietly shuddered, thinking of all the nefarious plots Saya could be hatching. Now that she knew what they were planning, she was undoubtedly trailing them as well. She probably had her own expedition ready. Of course, it wasn't to harvest any treasure in the _Firefly_ or on Green Island. It was to pull him away. If they were to plan this trip well, he thought, they had to be ready for Saya getting in the way as well.

In the lounge car, Jenny pointed to a circular wooden table, with six seats surrounding it. Just what they needed. They all congregated around the table and sat down, whereupon Jenny rolled out a large map of Green Island and the surrounding area for all to see. With the exception of Natalia who found a small leather-bound menu to peruse through, all eyes were cast onto the map.

The island itself was long and thin in its geography, marked by low-altitude mountains in the south and wide plains in the north. A small cove formed a dimple on the eastern side of the island, closest to Roxche. The remains of villages were marked with small dots in various places across the island, along with battle sites marked with crossed swords. Most forebodingly to Meg, there were several areas marked by polygons with striped patterns, indicating former minefields and areas filled with undetonated explosives. A dark reminder of the island's violent past.

"Okay guys," Jenny started, "here's the deal. Thanks to Seron figuring out the coordinates from the scrolls, we know that the _Firefly_ was scuttled somewhere around here…"

She pointed to the cove on the eastern coast of the island.

"…at Freiburg Cove."

"Do we search the cove, first?" Nicholas volunteered, fiddling with his long hair.

"No. First we need to find the shipwreck of the _Firefly_ itself. After we find it and search the wreck, _then_ we go into Freiburg cove."

Jenny's ruby eyes glinted with intent as they shifted focus to Larry.

"Larry, did you say that the Roxchean Navy is providing us a submersible?"

"Yes, they are," he confirmed. "They're also bringing a reconnaissance plane should we want to scout out the surrounding areas. They'll be waiting for us at the Montessaret docks when we arrive there tomorrow."

Jenny beamed, her teeth almost blinding Seron's normally stoic cobalt eyes.

"Great! What's the name of their ship again?"

"The _Sailfish._ "

"Jeez, Jen," Natalia joked, looking up from her menu, "we've barely started this trip and you've already forgotten the name of our ship?" Jenny pouted.

"Like you forgot the opening movement to the _Ballad of Colonel MacMillan_?"

Natalia said nothing to her retort, but her spectacles disappeared behind the menu as she slumped in her chair.

"Anyway, we'll also be exploring on the island itself."

"How do we know where to look for the treasure?" Larry asked.

Meg leaned in and offered an explanation.

"We are going to follow my grandfather's path on the island. He managed to link up with Bezelese troops a couple days after landing, and stayed on while trying to contact the Navy."

"Do you have a map of where he traveled?"

"I found it in his journal. I'll show it to everyone when we start."

A waiter dressed in a black tuxedo stopped by the table, and interrupted their impromptu briefing.

"Pardon me, but is there anything I can get for you lot? Something to eat or drink?" Natalia nodded and motioned the waiter to her.

"Yeah. Could you get me the Deluxe Walnut Parfait? This one?"

She pointed to an item on her menu. The waiter smiled and nodded.

"Certainly, madam. It'll be right up."

Jenny shot an incredulous glance at her friend and chief editor.

"A parfait this early? Really?" Larry likewise was perplexed by Natalia's choice. Even if she was the biggest eater in the group, she had standards, surely!

"Yeah, we haven't even had dinner yet."

"Oh, c'mon, we're on vacation, right? That means it's okay to break a few rules."

No one objected, seeing this as natural for Natalia. Her appetite would drive their club to bankruptcy one day. Jenny returned to the matter of exploring the island, and allowed Meg to fill in the details.

"Since my grandfather essentially landed on the Roxchean side of the island, he had to travel north and west to reach the Bezelese forces. So we start here…"

She pointed to "Freiburg Cove."

"…and then head up towards Cape Laz. That's where Bezelese troops landed in the war." Jenny grinned with optimism.

"I wonder what treasure your grandfather was hoping to give to his sons. Maybe gold? Or rough-cut diamonds? Or maybe the plans of some secret superweapon?"

"You read way too many adventure novels," Natalia observed. "The Green Island War was only about 30 years ago. However, blueprints for a superweapon might not be too farfetched. Meg, did your grandfather ever mention something like that in his journal?" Meg shook her head.

"Not that I can recall, no." Jenny slumped in her chair, slightly dejected.

"This really _is_ a mystery…"

"I'm sure we'll find out what my grandfather meant, one way or another."

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, that's about the gist of what we're doing on Green Island. Any questions?"

Seron, who had been silently absorbing the discussion this whole time, now saw the moment to bring to light the one threat they all faced. One far greater than any hazards they might encounter on Green Island or in the depths of the Lutoni River. He leaned in, tugged at a lock of his ebony black hair, and Meg instinctively shifted her gaze to him.

"There's just one problem that we're facing."

"What's that?"

"Saya Kobayashi."

Instantly, a dark cloud cast a shadow over the table, and all members of the club fell silent. Only the rhythmic clicking of the wheels was left in their ears. Saya Kobayashi. The name alone was enough to stop the entire world from spinning. Her arrival into the case and her photograph stunt at school created a huge upset. The Church Brothers, who had hounded them before for the scrolls, and now were surely sitting in cells, seemed miniscule compared to the threat posed by that girl. For what seemed like hours, no one could speak, as if Saya was present among them, muzzling them.

"What about her?" Larry said, finally.

"She's undoubtedly going to run interference with our expedition. I suspect she may be planning her own as we speak. If we run into her on Green Island, what do we do?"

"If she wants to get her hands on the treasure," Jenny challenged, "she'll have to get through _us_ first! Whatever Sir Maximilian left behind rightfully belongs to Meg!"

"Saya's not interested in the treasure. At least, I doubt she is."

"What are you getting at?"

Seron, in a rare display of passion, pounded his fist on the table.

"Don't be stupid, Jenny!" he retorted, his cobalt eyes alight with fire. "Saya is looking to get _me_! She's hoping to drive Meg and me apart! And if plastering a photograph of us all over the school is evidence enough, she will do anything, and I mean _anything_. I wouldn't be surprised if she even resorted to murder. We could all be at risk, here."

Natalia leaned in, over her menu, and offered his encouragement.

"Seron, we're all here for you and Meg. If Saya tries anything to get at either of you, you won't be alone." Nicholas nodded.

"I agree with Natalia. We're your friends, aren't we?"

"We won't let that witch Kobayashi get in the way of your romance!" Jenny added.

Meg, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, spoke up to Seron too, and confirmed what everyone else said.

"You see, Seron? We're not alone. Everyone in the Newspaper Club is behind us if Saya tries anything. Besides, even if it was just us, we've gotten out of fixes before. Remember when the Church Brothers held us hostage in their manor?"

Meg's words provided the balm that soothed Seron's soul, just as it always had. Of course he remembered. He remembered the event somewhat fondly, though he'd rather keep that to himself.

"Yes, I do. Somehow we managed to escape together."

"Exactly. So, we'll get through this together, just like we always have."

Seron smiled, and his senses relaxed as he rested his head closer to hers. He felt emboldened and uplifted by Meg's thoughtful and kind words, and couldn't hold himself back anymore. Their lips inched towards each other with a gentle touch, and he let forth a sigh, content in knowing that nothing could now interrupt his moment of intimacy with her.

"Thanks, Meg."

"Jeez, you two," Nicholas cracked, "get a room or something."

Blushing madly with embarrassment, the two teenagers inched away from each other. They had almost forgotten they were in public, and with friends. Seron was about to slug his friend when the entire table burst out laughing. Even Meg, as mortified as she was to let her passion get the best of her, couldn't help but laugh as well. Seeing her laugh erased all traces of his anger.

At that moment, the waiter came by, and presented Natalia with a towering parfait in a clear glass. Walnuts drizzled everywhere like snowflakes, a hill of whipped cream towered above the glass' lip, and a cherry on top of the whole meal. Jenny was lost in reverence, while Larry could only look at her meal in disbelief.

"There's no way in the world you can hope to eat all of that," Larry said skeptically. Natalia grinned, seeing it as a challenge.

"Well, now I've _got_ to eat it all, to prove you wrong."

"Please, don't, Naata!" Meg begged. "You'll get sick!" Natalia laughed off her cautions.

"I've eaten plenty of daunting things in my life, and I haven't gotten sick yet!"

Not ready to back down, Natalia promptly dug into her dessert before dinner, and left everyone in shock. Larry could only shake his head as he looked on.

"You've never had stomach problems? Ever?"

"Nope. Don't you remember, when we were nine, and I ate that ice cream sundae whole?"

"Big deal. Anyone can do that."

"Yeah, but…without…the brain freeze…"

The tempo of her eating slowed, and she rubbed her head, as if suffering from a migraine. Natalia, the biggest eater of the whole club, and possibly the whole school, was stricken with the brain freeze she claimed she never had. Now it was Larry's turn to laugh as Natalia stopped for a moment and recovered. A hint of pink rushed across her cheeks, revealing her shame.

The troupe talked on, while Natalia ate away at the parfait, detailing future plans for the expedition. Spirits were high among them all, assured that they would walk away with one of the greatest treasures in history. For Seron, one thing was unequivocally certain: this would be an adventure like no other, especially now that he had Meg by his side.

It turned out that Natalia's appetite knew no bounds, and by the time they had all decided to retire to bed, the parfait was completely gone. Meg was utterly amazed at her "bottomless stomach" as she called it, though Larry could only remark how one day, she'd meet something she couldn't eat. That day just hadn't come yet.

"You'll die before you see the sun rise on that day, Larry," Natalia boasted as she closed the door to the girls' compartment behind her.

In the meantime Larry joined the other boys who were changing into their pajamas. Seron, in particular, had already sat down on his bunk, opening up the sheets. He looked up to the ceiling in a daze, noticing the logo of Confederation Rail painted in the middle. Larry noted the wariness in his friend's cobalt eyes. Even if they had only been a couple for a little under a week, Seron still knew little in the ways of courtship. What did couples do together that set them apart from the world? Was it as simple as spending days together? Locking lips? Exchanging gifts? Or was it something more, on a higher plane that he could not hope to grasp?

Larry knew in an instant his friend was troubled. Whenever something weighed heavily on him, Seron would always stare into space with a contemplative look in his eyes.

"You're quieter than usual, pal."

Seron shifted his head to Larry's. No change was made to his blank expression, but the façade was thin and easily cut through.

"I'm just rather in shock that Jenny got us such lavish rooms. I expect a compartment like this on the Transcontinental Express, not a regional train."

"I guess. Now, do you want to tell me what's _really_ bothering you?"

The young boy ran through his silky black hair and sighed.

"Larry, I know I should feel happy, but I don't. Meg and I are official, but…I feel like nothing has really changed. Am I doing something wrong? What really goes into being a couple?"

The muscular blonde boy thought about it for a moment. Truthfully, he was as lost as Seron was. He had never had a girlfriend, or even a crush. Up to this point, all his advice was merely about how to be closer to Meg, how to support her, and how interact around her before the moment of confession finally came. If it weren't for the whole business with the treasure, they'd probably continue on with spring vacation on campus as normal. What _did_ couples do together normally?

"Well…I guess you'd be wooing her much more than usual."

Seron raised an eyebrow.

"Woo? How do you mean?"

"Compliment her, I guess. Or say something suave."

At that moment, Nicholas emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his head in turban-like fashion. He was in the middle of buttoning his pajamas as Larry gave an example.

"Maybe say something like this: guess what I'm wearing? The smile you gave me."

Seron nodded, thoughtfully. Nicholas cut in.

"What are we talking about, now?"

"I'm in need of assistance," Seron explained. "I'm trying to figure out what more I can do or say with Meg, now that we're…together."

Nicholas smiled, and seemed to have one line of his own. With a swift movement, he pulled the towel off his head, and his long dark brown locks floated out behind him as he said,

"How about: did you get a parking ticket? Because you have FINE written all over you!"

Dead silence filled the compartment, sans the train wheels clicking on the rails. Seron visibly cringed at the thought. If he said something like that to her, she might slap him and dump him on the spot!

"No offense, Nick," Larry broke in finally, "but that's…really…cheesy."

"You know what?" Seron offered. "Forget I even asked. I suddenly realize why you two are still single."

With an exasperated groan, Seron let his head fall back onto the pillow as his eyes shifted up to the window outside. Trees zipped by in a green blur as the sky began to darken with the coming of night.

"Maybe this is just something I need to figure out on my own…"

There'd be plenty of time to figure out what to do, he thought. He just hoped that nothing would spoil this time he had with Meg. A safe, uneventful journey. That was the best he could wish for.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I have already completed this story, and it's relatively short (much like the previous one was). To keep a reasonable schedule, I will be posting the chapters weekly, with the next one coming this next Sunday. I've learned that part of being a good writer on this site is to maintain a consistent schedule, and that means planning and writing out the stories in advance. It's the best way to really work, I've found, so you are not leaving people hanging.

Until next Sunday, people.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'm glad everyone liked the first chapter! It's nice to know that people still remember the last story I made all those years ago. Frankly, for a while, I didn't think that I would be coming back to this, but it was just niggling me in the back of my mind. So without further ado, let's continue on. This time we are in one of Roxche's port cities, about to start off the expedition. But there are some...complications. What do I mean by that? Read and find out.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: A Rough Start**

Montessaret was a busy port city southwest of the capital, and had a long history. Before the armistice, it was a central hub for the Roxchean war machine and the main base of operations for the Federal Navy during the Great War and the Green Island War that followed. However, as Roxche and Sous-Beil began to scale down their militaries, many of the shipyards that built battleships and destroyers shifted to building ferries and freighters, and the factories that once produced torpedoes and shells were turned into museums. Standing relics of a violent past for a continent that had just stitched itself back together.

The Roxchean Museum of Naval History was one such place. A former military drydock, it boasted all manner of archived treasures of the Great War. Ships' blueprints, vintage photographs, biographies, and a guided tour of a preserved drydock were just a few of the things that awaited them inside. Seron couldn't think of anything else more interesting or apropos for their trip than the Museum of Naval History. Meg likewise was drawn to the history, seeing the war her grandfather fought from the perspective of the 'enemy nation.' Learning together was one of the many things they loved to share. In fact, it seemed rather fitting that she, a Bezelese girl and the granddaughter of a soldier, had fallen in love with a Roxchean. 15 years prior, they would have been the bitterest of foes; now, neither could bear to let go of the other's hand.

Megmica Straussky's indigo eyes were wide as she stared at a weathered photograph showing the hull of a destroyer being built in a drydock. Seron Maxwell read the captions, since Meg still struggled to grasp some more advanced Roxchean.

"Photograph dated April, 3248 World Calendar," he read flatly. "The hull of Roxchean destroyer _Intrepid_ being laid by workers of the Montessaret Federal Shipyards. The _Intrepid_ was commissioned in 3250 World Calendar and saw service in the Great War (3252-57 WC) and the Green Island War (3277-78 WC)."

"It's so amazing to think that people can build things like that," Meg said with wonder. "It's such a shame we spent much of our energy building bigger and deadlier weapons. We could have spent it on much more useful things."

"On that, I can agree. I remember once reading about how both sides were developing railway cannons that could fire shells from several miles away. It was actually those weapons that led to the signing of the truce at the end of the Great War."

Seron felt a tender, concerning squeeze of his hand, and looked over his shoulder into her trembling eyes.

"Seron, what if the treasure my grandfather left is some kind of weapon? That could start the whole war over again!" She stepped closer, and Seron's heartbeat quickened. "I don't want to lose you. Especially since we're…together. It's the first time I've ever loved anyone, so I fear that…"

She blushed lightly, and bit her lip in anxiety. Seron didn't change his pokerfaced expression, but he could sense the trepidation and feel the sweat on her palm. He did not let go of her hand, and leaned in until all Meg could see was his strong cobalt eyes.

"Meg, I promise you it won't come to that. Whatever your grandfather's treasure is, it belongs to you, so you can do what you want with it. If it _is_ a weapon, we'll find a way to destroy it."

"How can you be so sure?" Seron traced one finger across her porcelain-like cheek.

"I trust you, Meg. I know you're a good person, and when the time comes, I am sure you will make the right decision."

Meg smiled, and grasped his hand. She realized that she was selling herself short, and it was as he said. If indeed it was a weapon, she could easily have it destroyed, and it was not even certain the treasure was a weapon to begin with. However, it was not that thought that relieved her of her fears. Rather, the knowledge her boyfriend had confidence in her was enough to put her mind at ease.

"I can always count on you, Seron. You're right, of course. And we don't even know if the treasure _is_ a weapon! Thanks for that, Seron."

"Anytime, Meg. You know I'd do anything for you."

She hugged him gently, and he was swaddled in her warmth. It was moments like these that he spent nights dreaming, wishing, hoping. Even if he was a neophyte when it came to courtship, and was still learning what it meant to be intimate with someone, he would not trade this feeling away for anything. Not for all the money in the world. Not even for whatever treasure awaited them on Green Island.

Meg looked up, and saw on the other side of the gallery a large portrait of a naval officer in blue. She thought he recognized him, and a familiar curiosity overtook her sense of relief.

She immediately trotted over to the portrait, almost yanking Seron off his feet. Her dainty finger pointed at the painting, and her voice chirped with excitement.

"I recognize this man! This is Admiral George Brandt! He commanded the Bezelese Royal Navy during the Great War."

Seron looked up and saw a brown-haired man with a full beard wearing the same kind of uniform her grandfather wore in his portrait: a pristine white navy tunic with an upright collar, gold braids (called aiguillettes) on his left shoulder and looped under his epaulettes, which indicated his rank as an admiral. His hard, steely olive eyes almost stabbed Seron's soul, as if he was staring down a hated enemy.

Below the portrait, Seron read the captions in Roxchean.

"Grand Admiral George Brandt (3201-3280 WC), commander-in-chief of the Royal Navy of Sous-Beil during the Great War and the Green Island War. He was decorated by the King of Sous-Beil several times for his strategic skill and saving the navy from destruction at the Blockade of Freundhaven in the Great War. Meg, do you know him?"

"No, but my grandfather did. They were good friends during his service. Admiral Brandt recommended him for a commission as a commodore, but the Green Island War ended before that could happen. In his journal, he always spoke very highly of the admiral. He described him as a capable and cunning commander."

"What happened to him?"

"When the Green Island War ended, he was given retirement by the King. He and my grandfather stayed in contact with each other until the day they died. Although…"

Meg's expression darkened slightly, as if a storm cloud suddenly gathered around her head.

"Although what?" Seron pressed, his flat expression unchanged.

"They often disagreed about what should happen after the war ended. The admiral thought it was best to maintain the same troop and fleet numbers as in wartime. But my grandfather…he thought Sous-Beil should try to make a permanent peace with Roxche."

"That was an unpopular idea to have."

"Yes, it was."

"Did it hurt him?"

"Beyond losing the admiral as his friend…not too terribly."

"Meaning?"

Meg inhaled sharply, her lips pursed and her eyes shut tight. She was averting her eyes and her mind from something. Something terrible.

"He was watched by the military police for the rest of his life."

"Because they thought he was a spy?"

"Or a saboteur, or something like that."

Seron sensed a frailty, a sore moment for her in her family's past. Her family hardly seemed the kind that would be oppressed or suspected. But even her grandfather, a respected war veteran and brave soldier, earned the ire of the government for simply holding the wrong opinion during wartime. His hands softly caressed around her waist and squeezed her to him affectionately.

"I'm so, so sorry, Meg."

She did not cry, as he was expecting. Instead, her hands grasped at his and she smiled, leaning into him.

"Don't be. His dream came true, after all. Our countries are now the closest of allies, and the war is finally over. It was what he wanted to see all of this time."

Around an hour later, Seron and Meg left the museum to get some lunch. The poker-faced boy knew just the perfect place. It was an outside cafe not too far from the Museum they had just visited. A full belly was what they needed before finally starting on the hunt for Meg's ancestor's treasure. An adventure they would surely remember for the rest of their lives.

Despite Saya Kobayashi taking the same train as the Newspaper Club, no member ever saw her, or even knew she was travelling with them to begin with. It was not like they had the time to look over their shoulder either; a ship had been prepared for them along with a small naval infantry detachment courtesy of Larry Hepburn. Their ship had to leave port soon if they wanted to get a head start to Green Island, and the treasure that (hopefully) awaited them.

Their ship was a modest freighter named the _Sailfish_ , fitted with all the equipment needed for exploring an uninhabited section of the world. The most notable feature of it was an Arado 196 reconnaissance seaplane, mounted on a catapult so it could immediately be launched into the air. It was quite impressive that Larry had secured not just a freighter, but a freighter _with_ a seaplane, although Seron had doubts they would need it.

In the small amount of free time they had before boarding the ship, Seron managed to take Meg around the city and view the local sights. A torpedo factory converted into a museum, telling stories of the conditions of workers, the importance of the Navy, and of the ultimate futility of the war. A small outdoor cafe where they dined on local fish brought in from the river. And finally, a small quick visit to a movie theater, where a variety of animated shorts were displayed to the enjoyment and excitement of them both. Alas, the time for dating was limited, and the moment for departure was upon them all.

Meg and Seron were just making their way towards the ship, thinking of all that could happen to them in the days to come. While Seron tried his best to put Saya Kobayashi out of his mind, Meg went on and on about various things she had heard of Green Island.

"I wonder if there are any towns to visit there," she thought aloud, twirling one pigtail in her finger.

"It would surprise me if there were," Seron replied, staring off at the big ships lining the harbor. "The island hasn't been inhabited since the formation of the buffer zone. Anyone who did live there were forced to relocate to Roxche or Sou-Beil. If anyone is still living there, they must have been living under rocks."

"Oh…"

Meg looked down at her shoes sheepishly, feeling slightly ashamed for not knowing.

"Sorry," Seron apologized, feeling guilty. "Didn't mean to spoil the mood."

At that, she smiled and took his hand.

"You didn't," she giggled, "trust me."

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. Just you."

Seron blushed, and she could only laugh as he kept his stoic expression. It was only in private moments did he ever truly crack a smile or laugh. He could only be comfortable enough to do that with her. Such a contrast to merely a few months ago, when he could barely put a coherent sentence together in her presence, much less look her in the face. He had come a long way since then, had gone through many different trials to prove himself to her, though he needn't have. She trusted him through and through, regardless of circumstances. At that thought, a wave crashed against the docks and sent some seabirds flying away, cawing to each other. The sight brought to Meg's mind another prospect for the trip.

"Oh, I almost forgot! There's a swimming hole near the island, so we can relax there for a bit in-between searching. Hope you didn't forget your swimwear."

"No, I didn't. However, I think any swimming we may do will be around the shipwreck."

Meg stared at him, looking unsatisfied.

"Oh, come on, Seron! Don't tell me you're not up for a little swimming, are you?"

"I'm not opposed to it," he explained, "but…only if there aren't any…mishaps."

Meg willed the apprehension away as they reached the _Sailfish_ and ostensibly the start of their journey. As if the Gods had heard the word "mishap," a new and dangerous situation was conjured up for the two youths. At that moment, a suspicious man in some red sweater and black slacks sprinted down the gangplank of the ship, looking to be in an awful hurry and not wanting to be stopped by anyone. The fact he sprinted off the ship so quickly soon aroused the attention of Meg and Seron. Moreover, he didn't look to be a crew member, at least not one they recognized, and he certainly wasn't a soldier. Who was that man?

"Wonder where he's going in such a hurry?" Seron wondered aloud.

"And why?" Meg put in.

She raised a hand to call out to the suspicious man, but Seron took her by the arm, gently trying to calm her. Meg had a way of being impulsive sometimes, albeit not nearly as bad as Jenny could be.

"We don't know who this person is, Meg. He could be dangerous, so we should approach carefully."

Meg, however was undeterred and called out to the man.

"Hey you! Stop! What were you doing on our ship?!"

"Meg, wait!"

Meg didn't listen and instead ran after him down the pier as hard as she could pelt, missing the large coil of heavy rope tied to a moored ship. She somersaulted head over heels to the concrete, and watched as the suspicious man ran further and faster away from them. At the same time, she saw two familiar figures in the distance, walking on a collision course with their escaping suspect. On the left was a short-statured short-haired redhead with equally striking eyes. On one side of her head she wore a butterfly hair ornament, while she was dressed in a light red sweatshirt and black shorts. Walking next to the redhead was a tall brunette with glasses in a sleeveless sweatshirt and dark navy denim pants, with a calm cool expression on her face. Meg instantly recognized the two of them as their club mates, Jenny and Natalia.

"Jenny! Naata! Stop that man!"

The two girls barely had any time to react as the man violently pushed through the two of them. Natalia was sent careening sideways to the pavement like a barrel rolling down a hill while Jenny was almost pushed off the ledge of the dock and fell into the water. Thankfully she managed to regain her balance just in time to land firmly on her backside and on dry pavement. The man ran on, leaving the two girls completely dumbstruck as to what just happened as Meg and Seron immediately set off in pursuit of the suspicious person.

Natalia rushed over to Jenny and helped her up, only to find her incensed.

"That was incredibly rude to just barge through us like that. Who does that guy think he is?"

"I don't know, but something odd is definitely going on. What was he doing on our ship, anyway?"

Jenny, always itching for a good story and always looking for trouble suggested to Natalia to trail the suspicious man and hopefully get an answer. Natalia, just as curious and befuddled by this as Jenny was, obliged.

In the meantime, Meg and Seron had managed to chase the runner into an alleyway, and both were quite sure they had him cornered. The runner stayed still facing a brick wall in-between two warehouses, seemingly unmindful of the two youngsters approaching him from behind, nor of the two other girls coming up to join them. Seron, feeling something amiss, grabbed hold of Meg's hand and told her to approach cautiously, as there was no telling what this man might do if they got too close. They slowly crept up on the man, watching for any telltale signs of an incoming attack, but he stayed still, as if he was enraptured with some great painting in an art gallery.

Suddenly, as they were within about three meters from touching his jacket sleeve, the runner whipped about, brandishing a Webley revolver, and fired two shots into the oncoming teenagers.

Seron was quick to react and pull Meg out of harm's way, roughly grabbing her by the shoulders and dragging her to the right, sidestepping the shots. Thankfully for them, the man's aim wasn't up to much and barely missed Meg by clipping the waist of her skirt. Once he knew Meg was safe, Seron immediately leaped upon the suspicious man and tried his best to wrestle the gun out of his hand. He would die here if it meant Meg and the others would be safe.

The man was more skilled with his own fists than with a gun, and it showed as he landed a hard and swift punch to Seron's stomach. The boy countered with a fast kick to the shin that sent the man staggering back, and opened a way to the end of this conflict with a punch across the face. However, the man grabbed Seron by his wrist, and the two were in a battle of sheer strength, each trying to overpower the other with only their muscles. Seron likewise grabbed at the man's gun-wielding hand trying to strangle it out of his grip while they locked eyes with each other, each asking the other why they were here, what was their purpose, and what they hoped to gain.

In the meantime, Meg could only watch in apprehension and mind-breaking suspense as the two men grappled with each other, wondering what she could do. Perhaps if she found something to strike the man on the head, like a brick or a bottle, Seron wouldn't be harmed, and they'd find out just what was at play in all of this. Her eyes darted around quickly, searching for anything that could help, but found something unexpected laying on the pavement.

It was a small piece of clothing, bright pink in color and pleated, and torn in one place so it formed an incomplete circle. Meg blushed bright red, fearing the worst as she looked down at herself and found the most mortifying of situations had befallen her. She was in nothing but her white blouse with puffy sleeves, and below her where her skirt should be her panties, striped in blue and white with a small pink bow on the front, were on full display!

That was her skirt lying in the middle of the alley, torn from her body by the man's gunshots. Before she thought of anything else Meg quickly picked the skirt off the floor and tried her best to wrap it around her waist again, praying in her head that Seron didn't see anything before he made a leap at the gunman.

Out of the corner of her eye, to her left, she saw Jenny creep into the alleyway carrying a white plank on her back. To see such a diminutive girl with a large plank was almost comical, but Meg didn't bother laughing as Jenny indicated with a finger to her mouth exactly what she planned to do. And do it she did.

Seron struggled to gain advantage, but the gunman was just too strong for him as he circled around, both of their hands still grappling with each other no longer to retrieve the weapon, but bring the other down to the ground for the kill. Thankfully, however, the two brawlers rotated just in the right direction for Jenny to make a hard and sudden swing at the gunman's head.

The blow cracked the plank in half and sent the man down to the pavement in a heap, allowing Seron the opportunity to grab the revolver and keep it squarely on the gunman. As the man fell, Jenny quipped out,

"That's for almost pushing me off the dock!"

Now that they had subdued the gunman, Seron immediately interrogated him, wondering just what was going on and what had caused this entire escapade to begin with.

"Who are you and what were you doing on our ship?"

The gunman remained silent, determined not to give up any information for as long as possible. Natalia's eyes narrowed deviously behind her glasses.

"Not talking, huh?"

"C'mon, pal," Jenny pressed impatiently. "You seemed in an awful hurry coming off our ship."

"You children should never have come here," the gunman hissed. "Go back to school with your lunch boxes!"

Irritation setting in, Jenny opened a palm of her hand and slapped the adult man as quick as a wink.

"Who are you calling children?! It's your own damn fault for allowing yourself to get captured!"

"Now tell us what we need to know," Seron reiterated. "Who are you and what were you doing on our ship?"

The gunman felt his cheek, and it stung sharper than a hornet's venom. He glared hard at Jenny and then to Seron. Meg looked on, somewhat concerned from behind him. She hoped that he would not turn around and see her in the state she was in.

"You're gonna have to do better than that to break me, kid!" Jenny smirked to his jeer, as if formulating a nefarious plan of her own.

"So you're a tough guy, are you?"

"Who wants to know? How old are you all anyway?"

"Old enough to know who shady people are and you're one of them!" Natalia countered.

"If you want to make things easier, just talk," Jenny quipped. "We are not in the mood to have a terrorist mudding up our treasure hunt."

"Sir," Meg offered, "we won't press charges if you just tell us what's going on. Please…"

The gunman looked over at her, seeing her biting her lips, somewhat afraid and hiding behind Seron. The look in her indigo eyes was one of slight embarrassment. This must be the girl Saya told him about.

"I might tell you all something…"

Everyone leaned in, eager to hear his explanation.

"…if that girl comes with me. My boss needs to speak with her about something."

Jenny growled, and gave him a swift kick to the thigh.

"Saya Kobayashi is behind this, isn't she?!" she barked. "How much is she paying you? What's she hoping to do, you miserable…!"

She stood over him and roughly grabbed the gunman by the collar, her ruby red eyes burning with a fire all of them could only describe as wicked. The aggressive outburst and painful kick was more than enough to put the gunman in his place and confess.

"I-I don't know what she wants! All she told me was to get to that girl and bring her with me. Whatever it is, Miss Kobayashi probably got a nasty grudge on her…"

"But if she's somewhere around here," Meg said fearfully, "that means she's on to us. Dear Gods, what is she thinking?"

"She might be after the treasure, too," Natalia thought to herself.

"So, it _is_ Saya after all," Seron thought aloud. "Tell me, what were you doing on our ship, then? When you saw us, you ran away at a pretty good clip."

"I…ain't tellin' you jack, boy," the man replied stubbornly.

Jenny pressed one foot on his thigh, and then both before shaking him roughly by the collar.

"You wanna try again, tough guy?!"

The terrorist shirked in fear at Jenny's hard glare. His stoic façade cracked as easily as glass, exposing the trepidation he secretly harbored instantly.

"Alright, alright, I'll talk! I'll talk! Just…get this crazy girl off me! Please!"

Jenny smiled in satisfaction while Natalia pulled her off him. The man came out with everything he could possibly give.

"Look, I set up a bomb on your ship to scuttle the treasure hunt before you could leave port. I planted it on the ship's bridge, where the helm is. It's gonna go off at 4:30."

At the mentioning of the time, Seron looked at his watch, and saw that they had only five minutes to get back to the ship and dispose of the bomb. Even he, the stoic and seemingly emotionless school star, was choked with dread as his cobalt eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"We don't have any time, then! Let's find that bomb, right now!"

The group of young teenagers left the tied-up bomber be in the alleyway and made a mad dash to get to the ship's bridge. It would not just be the end of a treasure hunt but for many innocent lives as well unless they hurried!

Seron led everyone up the gangplank, while Meg, still trying to hold her clipped skirt together, brought up the rear and kept an eye on the bomber at the same time. There would be nothing worse than the evidence running off to who-knows-where. They were joined on the top deck by Larry and Nicholas, who together were overseeing final preparations for the ship.

Larry, who found it odd that his best friend Seron would appear frantic and harried, immediately sensed something was wrong.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost, pal. What's up?"

"Larry, there is a bomb on this ship. It will go off in five minutes if we don't find it and dispose of it."

"A bomb?!" Larry said with surprise. "Well, where is it?"

"On the bridge. We have to hurry, or we'll be sunk before we started."

On the bridge, the ship's captain was overseeing the final inspection before departing. However, as he made the rounds and checked all parts of the ship, he heard a strange ticking sound, like the kind heard on a clock. He looked everywhere, but there was nothing. The more time passed, the more this strange ticking ate away at him.

"Did someone leave their watch around here?"

Two young people dashed into the bridge and began frantically searching for the bomb, following the ticking sound.

"Hey, what are you two doing?! You're not allowed on the bridge!"

"Can't you hear that noise?!" Seron snapped at the captain. "A terrorist planted a bomb over here! We need to find it before-!"

"I found it!" Meg cried.

Seron turned and saw a black box mounted near the base of the helm. A small clock was on the face of it, with the second-hand tick-tick-ticking around the face. The time indicated just over a minute until 4:30.

"Good work, Meg!" Larry cheered. "Let's get it off, before it explodes!"

Meg pulled at the box with all her might, but it stuck to the helm tightly. Seron and the others lent a hand and pulled heard, knowing that time was of the essence. If they were too late, it would mean the end of all of them. On the third yank, the box came flying off and sent the entire Newspaper Club rolling over each other as they fell back. Meg was quick on her feet, and, with one hand still holding her skirt together, ran towards the deck of the ship.

"Throw it over the side!" Seron yelled. "Drop it, Meg!"

She did not need any more motivation, as the timer had only 15 seconds left. With all of her might she tossed it over the side of the ship, throwing it as far as she could fling it. As it spun away, she heaved a great sigh, while looking down at the waters below. She thought for sure she would die, along with everyone else on board.

 _BOOM!_

The bomb exploded, and thankfully killed no one, but it still was a tremendous, forceful blast all the same. The explosion pitched the ship's hull from side to side as if in a great thunderstorm at sea. Meg, exhausted and barely holding onto the railing of the deck, felt her grasp slip along with her footing, and before she could even figure out what was happening, her body capsized over the ledge. And she fell into the water, screaming as she did.

Seron heard her screams, and exited the bridge just in time to see her legs disappear behind the railings and into the water. Any other thoughts he may have had in that moment, be it the bomber, the status of everyone else in the club, or the integrity of the ship were wiped away in an instant. The following words were all he could think of.

"Meg…hang on! Hang on!"

He stood up on the railing and pushed off, diving down after her as she disappeared into the docks with a splash. Whether she knew how to swim or not did not matter at that moment. All that mattered was he had to save her. He had to protect her. It was one thing he was obliged to do as her boyfriend, her love, her friend.

The young boy cut through the water, and looked through as best he could for his love. Normally whenever he swam, it was with goggles over his eyes, which meant that his vision was little more than a blur. But spotting fair and beautiful Meg in this murky darkness could not be that difficult…could it?

He swam as deep as he could, kicking for everything he was worth. His cobalt eyes strained, looking to see any outline of her in the water. Just below him a faint hint of white appeared, along with light blue. What looked like the ribbons that held her pigtails in place, light pink in color, danced as they sank downwards. A body soon materialized, slowly spinning helplessly as it descended further down to the dock.

 _Meg…!_

He swam down, his arms like wings soaring through the makeshift sky of water towards Meg. She seemed to be knocked unconscious during the fall, which only worried Seron more. If she wasn't brought to the surface soon, she could easily die. He tried to swim faster and harder, and her outline became clearer as he drew closer. At the same time, he looked for a way to grab her and pull her close to him. As her body slowly turned again, her shapely legs aimlessly sifted through the water and into his vision. When the heel of her shoes was in the foreground, Seron reached out a hand and grabbed her by the ankle, before pulling up.

The move worked, and Meg's body drifted up into Seron's reach. That's when he noticed something he had not noticed before.

Her skirt was gone, and the lower half of her body was only covered by her underwear. Blue with white stripes, which accentuated every curve in Meg's porcelain-like skin. His cheeks burned red in the water, almost glowing, but he had to stay focused. This was a matter of life and death, for heaven's sake!

One arm curled around her waist and clung tightly like a vice before Seron began to swim back up towards the surface. Towards the fading afternoon light. Towards his friends who were surely now waiting with baited breath.

Speaking of breath…

His head grew light, and his lungs felt ready to collapse in on themselves. Seron's lips pursed, and a small trail of air bubbles fled from his mouth up towards the surface. He needed to breathe, but the surface was only so far away! The feeling was akin to holding a great weight on his shoulders as he kept swimming, closer and closer to the surface. Not yet…don't exhale yet…remember swimming classes…

His hand cut through the surface of the water, just when he thought his lungs would give out, and his head burst through, exhaling sharply.

Seron's vision returned to normal, and he found himself paddling around in the waters of the dock, Meg's body still tightly wrapped in the crook of one arm. She stirred slightly, the violet-tinged hair covering her eyes like a courtesan's veil. Seron looked over, and tried hard not to glance at her exposed underwear.

"Meg?" he breathed, trying to keep his head and hers above the surface. "Meg, can you hear me?"

"Seron…?"

The young Bezelese girl turned and looked up into his cobalt eyes. A weak, somewhat sickly smile graced her lips upon seeing her beloved.

"There you are…"

She coughed up excess water as Seron swam around, looking for something to grab a hold of. He shouted as best as he could to anyone who may still be aboard.

"Hey…someone toss me a line! Don't leave us! Help!"

Looking up, the black-haired boy thought he spotted the cropped blonde head of his friend, Larry.

"Hey, Larry! Down here!"

Larry looked over, and was astonished to see his friend and his classmate still alive, wading in the water. He shouted to a crew member who promptly tossed a white lifesaver into the dock for them to grab.

They would later be pulled up and wrapped in blankets to keep warm. But even with the blankets they still huddled together for warmth, unbelievably glad that neither had suffered a cruel fate. Both played the part of heroes today, not just for their friends but for each other.

"Larry," Seron asked weakly as he sipped on a cup of hot tea, "what happened to the bomber?"

"Police are takin' care of him now," Larry reassured him. "He gave us everything after a little coaxing from Jenny. Turns out Saya is planning a little expedition of her own to Green Island."

"She's on a collision course with us," Meg realized, sniffing. "That means…"

"We're going to see her again," Seron finished. "This won't be the last time she causes trouble for us. We have to be ready."

Everyone nodded firmly, but Meg's indigo eyes looked at Seron's cobalt ones with allurement.

"So, you dove in after me, did you?" Seron blushed, averting his eyes.

"O-of course, I did, Meg. Anyone else would have done the same."

"That was very brave of you, my love."

She leaned over and pecked him lightly on the cheek. His entire face grew red at her next words.

"My hero."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Apologies for the delayed update. I felt very sick yesterday, and I was not much in a position to upload the next chapter. However, I'm feeling a little better now. So, let's continue the adventure. We've arrived on Green Island, and now we are starting the search for the treasure proper! But there are a few nasty surprises waiting for the Newspaper Club, and for Meg and Seron in particular. They need to watch their step...literally and figuratively.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: The Search (Meg and Seron Side)**

The _Sailfish_ steamed away from Montessaret without much incident, the bomber in police custody and everyone from the crew on down to the Newspaper Club on heightened alert. Their near-miss with the bombing hung over their heads like a dark cloud, despite the sunshine that followed them down the wide Lutoni River to Green Island.

Even at full speed, it took the better part of a day for their freighter to reach the cove outside Green Island. As they approached, the entire club was taken aback by the amazing view of the island, the whole of which they could see from the deck of their ship.

The topography was quite varied for such a small island in the middle of the river. To the left (or south), high snowcapped mountains loomed over a forest and what remained of a small town less than a mile from the shore. Freiburg Cove jutted into the island, forming a rough half-circle some 500 meters in diameter. All around the cove golden sands formed a ring, much like one an engaged woman would wear. A ring Seron wished he could put on Meg. To the right of the cove (or north), the terrain gently flattened out from the rolling hills into wide open plains, extending up to Cape Laz in the distance.

There, about five or so kilometers away from the cove, the Newspaper club thought they could see the remains of landing craft and ships. One of them, a small transport freighter, lay half-sunk in the shallower waters of the Lutoni River, a gaping wound in its hull. By the looks of it, the ship had been struck with a naval artillery shell just as it was being withdrawn. Meg only managed to spot it by the rusted smokestack standing like a beacon in the fading evening light.

As the sailfish dropped anchor, and the sun slowly sank behind the horizon, the entire island was bathed in a warm, orange glow that captivated all. None of them could speak, and only sigh in contentment at the pleasant sight. Somewhere on that small, peaceful island was a treasure they could not hope to imagine. Somewhere on that former battlefield, Megmica Straussky's grandfather had left a clue to guide them.

Even though they had arrived in the early evening, and it made little sense to disembark now, Jenny still made a point of going over their "battle plan," as she called it. Seron tried and failed to suppress a light yawn as he made his way to the dining hall below deck.

Dinner was just getting started and much of the freighter's crew and the military detachment were about to sit down to eat. In one empty table of the mess hall, the six teenagers gathered around the map and went over their options.

"I say we first try exploring the wreck itself," Jenny proposed. "It's possible that whatever treasure the _Firefly_ was carrying was still in it when it went down."

While it seemed like a logical first step, Meg, who had had a near-death experience in the port waters of Montessaret, visibly shivered at the idea. Her indigo eyes trembled and looked down at the map of the island, then to Seron. The poker-faced visage could not hide his concern for his new girlfriend.

"Meg…"

"I-I-I'd rather we explore the island first," she said shakily.

Natalia looked over her glasses, and for perhaps the first time in their knowing each other, the normally calm and cool image vanished, showing a bit lip and a furrowed brow.

"Just going back into the water again…" Meg continued, "after what happened in Montessaret…I just can't."

"Maybe this isn't the best idea, Jen," Natalia offered, one hand rubbing Meg's shoulder sympathetically. "Plus, we'd have to find that wreck first."

"That's where we come in," one man from the next table over put in.

Larry looked up, and saw an officer in a marine officer's uniform, a brown jacket with a green collar and matching bell-bottomed trousers. The insignia on the sleeves indicated he was a second lieutenant. Tall with fiery red hair and tawny skin, he greeted the group with a wide, knowing grin.

"Lieutenant Sullivan?" Larry asked, bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"We didn't bring that new submersible for nothin', y'know."

Sullivan's gunmetal grey eyes looked over to an older mustachioed marine officer on the other side of the mess hall. Judging by his sleeve insignia, he was a captain.

"Captain Vargas will be pickin' two people to man the submarine and a team of divers to explore the wreck. Prolly best if you kids left that ship to us. Could be some live munitions still intact inside. Hate for you to blow yourselves up over this treasure hunt, y'know?"

"That does make sense," Nicholas thought aloud. "Plus, we wouldn't know where to start looking in that ship."

"But will you be alright, Lieutenant?" Jenny asked, not entirely convinced.

"Sure, kid. We've been trained to do this kind of stuff. We're not marines for nothin'!" Nicholas nodded, recognizing their shortcoming as a group.

"We're _not_ trained, and even if we did want to go down, chances are we'd just be floundering around like a headless chicken."

"If we find anything on that ship, we'll tell ya," Sullivan assured them. "Hell, both of our countries could benefit from whatever's still in there."

"Just promise me this, Lieutenant," Seron entreated, finally breaking his silence. "If it _is_ a weapon, it _cannot_ be used."

"I'll make sure the captain knows, kid. Nobody wants another war, that's for sure."

Jenny was visibly miffed by all of this, and groaned slightly in frustration. However, it was probably for the best that they left the ship to professionals. It did not mean they could not make other inroads into the treasure hunt, however. Her ruby eyes glazed over the map, and a small smirk crept across her lips.

"Doesn't mean we still can't explore the island itself!"

She pointed to their location at Freiburg Cove.

"Meg's grandpa traveled all the way up the island in order to make it back to Bezelese lines. He could have left some clues or buried it somewhere. Meg, you still have your grandfather's journal, right?" Meg nodded.

"I do."

"Does he talk about what happened to him on the island? After the ship went down?"

"Yes, actually. He goes into a lot of detail about how he managed to get back to Sous-Beil. He had to travel behind enemy lines making his way to Cape Laz before eventually rendezvousing with a Bezelese infantry squad."

"So, we can follow his trail and maybe find some answers."

"I hope so. We would have a lot of ground to cover, Jenny."

"Good," she said, grinning. "I love a challenge."

Jenny stood up on the bench, and her ruby eyes flashed with confidence and eagerness as she addressed everyone in the club. Seeing her diminutive body leagues above everyone else, Seron was reminded of an image of an officer inspiring his troops.

"So, here's the plan, you guys: Tomorrow, while the marines scour the wreck, we'll head ashore and start exploring the island. Meg, your job is to draw out your granddad's path to Cape Laz."

"Understood. I'll have it ready for us tomorrow."

"We should probably split up into teams, too. To cover more ground."

"Who should go with who, then?"

Jenny pondered the question for a bit, rubbing her chin in thought. Larry stepped in, although his suggestion was hardly surprising.

"Well, I think we all know who Meg should go with."

Megmica Straussky and Seron Maxwell locked eyes with each other, as both knew what Larry meant. Meg's whole face resembled a cherry and she looked away in embarrassment. Seron's cheeks likewise flushed, and he glanced back at his meal. Larry paid them no heed, knowing that they would not object either way and looked over to Natalia, Nicholas and Jenny.

"I'll go with Nick."

"Then that leaves you with me, Jen," Natalia said, the lenses of her glasses flashing. "That is, if there are no objections?"

All shook their heads, and the matter was decided. Jenny clapped her hands in anticipation of what would come tomorrow.

"Then it's settled. Let's all get a good night's sleep. We're gonna be on the island all day and we can't afford to be dragging our feet."

She extended her arm out into the center of their table, hovering over their respective plates of dinner. Meg looked at her quizzically, while the others did the same, piling their hands over hers. It must be some Roxchean ritual of which she knew nothing. Instinctively her indigo eyes looked to Seron for clarification. He was too busy tugging at a lock of black hair between his eyes, lost in thought. It was hardly surprising that he would be thinking at a time like this, considering all they would be facing tomorrow.

She sensed there may be more than just treasure waiting for them on that island.

"C'mon, Meg!" Natalia encouraged. "stick your hand in! This is a team effort, isn't it?"

"Oh! Of course."

She gingerly extended her right arm and rested her palm on top of Larry's. Larry grabbed Seron by the wrist and pulled him in too.

"We're doing this for your lady friend, don't forget."

When his palm gently contacted hers, it was like a sudden lightning flash struck his mind. All at once, the familiar feelings and mannerisms that held him back from confessing before returned. The shaking. The blanket of sweat. The chattering of teeth. However, when his cobalt eyes looked over to Meg, and took in her violet-tinged hair done up in twin pigtails, her sweet round face, and her pearly teeth, he remembered.

There was no need to be afraid. He had her. He loved her as she did him. The times he spent trying to get close to her, deepening their friendship, earning her trust, had all paid off. They were together, practically joined at the hip. And as long as their friends were with them, nothing, not even the schemes of Saya Kobayashi, could separate them.

"Let's go, Newspaper Club!"

"YEAH!"

* * *

The following day, everyone woke early enough to catch the sun rising in the east and at their backs as they came down the gangplanks onto the island.

Behind them, on the ship, the crew of marines were preparing to launch the submersible into the river. It was a squat, yellow-colored vehicle, bearing the emblem of the Roxchean Armed forces on its hull, while the driver sat in front where a Plexiglas viewing window allowed him to see underwater. Meg could not help but watch in awe as the ship's crane brought the submersible around and slowly lowered it into the water. She was so lost in amazement that Seron had to tug at her dress sleeve to hurry.

When they reached the island itself, Meg went over the route she drew up following Sir Maximilian's path to Cape Laz. It was a winding, circuitous route that nearly covered all of the island. They had a lot of ground to cover if they wanted to find the treasure quickly, so Jenny was wise to break the club up into small teams.

Natalia and Jenny chose to explore the area around the cove itself, while Larry and Nicholas went further south, towards the foothills of the snowcapped mountains, and the former settlements. That left Meg and Seron with charting out the forest, and the open plains further north, heading towards the cape.

"I hope we don't encounter any wild animals," Meg commented, walking cautiously through the dirt road.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Seron thought aloud, leading her off the trail and into the forest itself. "Instead we should be focusing on finding any clues to help us locate that treasure."

"If we don't find any more bombs here, that is..." Meg said, shivering at the thought.

The young boy felt his hand squeezed hard by hers, almost crushing his palm. Of course, it was hardly abnormal to be afraid, considering what they were facing. Not only were there undoubtedly dangers on the island such as booby traps for soldiers and the unearthed landmine, but another person was hunting them. She was not so much interested in the treasure as in Seron.

"Remember what we said on the train, Meg? How our friends have our backs?"

"Yes. I remember."

"So, let's have some faith in them. We can't let Saya win."

"I trust in them with every ounce in my being. But, come on, Seron, you make it sound so easy. We don't know what other tricks Kobayashi has up in her sleeve."

The normally taciturn boy bit his lip, seeing that Meg did have a point. If Saya was willing to endanger the lives of their crew and all of the Newspaper club with a bomb, there were no lengths to which she would not go to separate and sabotage them. Even in his limited interactions with her, he never thought she would be this devious.

"You're right, we don't. But that just means we have to be on our guard and watch out for anything suspicious."

After a moment of reflection, Meg slowly nodded, though her thoughts were still gripped with apprehension.

"Yes…that's true. I'm just worried what we will run into next is all."

Seron stopped them both just as they entered the shade of a chestnut tree, and Meg thought for certain something was amiss. But instead of getting her to cover or alerting her to a danger, he only held her close to him. Meg's cheeks burned a light shade of scarlet, not expecting something like this from the normally reserved school star.

He was truly a deeply romantic, passionate person beneath that cool façade.

"I'm here with you, no matter what comes next. Don't forget that."

Meg smiled, wrapping her arms around Seron's torso.

"Thank you, my Seron. I really needed to hear that."

They continued into the woods, looking for anything that could give them a clue about the treasure or lead them in the right direction. But since her grandfather left little in the ways of hints, it was akin to finding a needle in a haystack. The most they could do was look around for anything out of place. Beneath their feet in the grass. Up in the branches of trees. Behind the bushes and brush.

In fact, both of them quickly realized how overgrown the forest was. The entire island was devoid of inhabitance since the end of the Green Island War, and everything had been left to fade away, as if in hope that the scars of the past war would just disappear with time. But time also turned the forest into a dense jungle, albeit without the immense heat or heavy rain.

While Seron tried his best to keep Meg in his sights, she was easily distracted by the many various sights of the forest. A tall elm with a branch cut in two, evidence of a battle. One cypress rocked to its side, listing at a high angle. Even the mundane noises of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind kept her attention.

One loud song grabbed her mind and kept it in a stranglehold as she looked up and saw a rare, beautiful sight.

Perched on a low branch of a chinquapin, a cardinal with the brightest of red plumage looked about the forest, singing and calling for a potential mate. Cardinals were a rare and treasured sight, and this was no different. She saw the occasional robin or sparrow back home, but a cardinal or a blue jay was a sight to behold. It always heralded spring and its associated beauty.

Like a magnet to metal, she was drawn, her indigo eyes locked onto it with no hope of breaking. She tried to approach the chinquapin tree and reached her hand out, as if wanting to touch it. It was a forlorn hope, since a cardinal would never let a big scary human get near it, but Meg had to try. Anything was worth a try.

She was less than 20 paces away and her mouth had parted into the widest, most ebullient smile she ever wore but she suddenly heard something behind her. A quick rustling of leaves, followed by a muffled thud. She thought she could also hear Seron's voice groan on top of it. The cardinal flew away and she sensed something was amiss, for real this time.

"Seron?"

Turning around, there was no one. She was all alone. Adrenaline filled her veins and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat. Meg had been so distracted that she did not even think of keeping up with Seron! Perhaps she left him behind her somewhere!

"Seron, where are you? Can you hear me?"

She retraced her steps, trying to discern where she could have lost him. It could not have been that far away, surely!

"Meg!" Seron's voice called. "Be careful!"

"Seron, is that you? Where did you go?! I can't see you!"

She stepped forward, but failed to look down. Had she done so, she would have seen a large hole in the ground with piles of dead leaves and sticks around the rim.

"Seron, tell me where you AAAAARRRREEEE!"

Her Mary-Jane style shoes slipped on the rim and before she could know what to do, Meg fell feet first into the hole. A short, panicked squeal escaped from her lungs, but the fall was stopped as soon as it started. She patted herself around, but nothing seemed to be broken or especially hurt in the fall. However, upon looking down, it seemed her fall was not stopped permanently, as her hips had wedged firmly in the hole. The beige skirt of her one-piece dress splayed out like a table cloth around her as it settled from the sudden updraft of air.

Meg's cheeks burned slightly in embarrassment, wondering what Seron would say if he saw her like this. This surely must be a trap laid by Saya, she thought as she tried to pry herself out.

"How very…ngh…undignified…!"

Despite her best efforts, her pulls and strains only succeeded in sinking her deeper into the hole by a few centimeters. Meg gulped, sensing that the wedge of her hips would not last long. If she didn't work fast, she would fall in too, and heaven only knew how she could get out again!

"Seron! I need help! Please, help me!"

Her dainty feet kicked back and forth, trying in vain to find a small ledge to gain a footing. She sank deeper with each kick and each shift of her legs until finally…

POP!

Her hips finally slid free of the wedge of the hole, and Meg's fall resumed. The skirt of her dress flipped up past her waist as she disappeared from the surface, leaving her blind to what lay in store for her below. A shriek ripped from her lungs, and Meg looked around for something, anything, to slow her fall. But there was nothing, except the black earth and dead roots that broke off whenever she grabbed them.

The hair-raising fall only lasted a few seconds, and with a hard thud, Meg's bottom hit something. It was soft, but strong enough to cushion her and not leave her sore. Above her, a narrow beam of light shone down the shaft of the pit, and revealed how far she had fallen. The pit was at least five meters deep, meaning she would have to climb up the walls to get out again.

"Whew…" she sighed with relief in her native Bezelese. "At least the fall didn't kill me. Now I need to get out of this hole and find Seron."

"Down here," a familiar, masculine voice said, muffled.

Meg's eyes panned down to the origin of the voice, and found a young boy of black hair, lying prone below her. It was Seron! Normally, she would be happy and relieved to see him, but their positions dampened any positive feelings she may have had. She had landed right on top of his chest cavity, with the skirts of her one-piece dress covering his face. Her lips quivered in discomfiture at their position. The Gods definitely had it in for them, since they had a habit of ending up in mortifying situations.

The Bezelese girl gasped with shock upon seeing him, and stood up in haste. However, she knocked her head on the walls of the pit and left her dazed. She collapsed to her knees, still straddling Seron as he struggled to pull himself up.

"So…" she muttered, " _this_ is where you were."

"I tried to warn you. This entire forest is laden with traps, it seems."

"Kobayashi's work?"

"I don't think so, unless she arrived on the island ahead of us. They are likely left over from battles on this island. Both sides were wont to use them to capture enemy troops." Meg smiled ruefully and laughed.

"In that case, they're very effective."

Meg looked up again at the surface, where light emanated like an angel in the darkness of Hell. She groaned with worry.

"That seems like a long way up. How are we getting out of here?"

Seron's cobalt eyes looked up, and examined the walls. Meg could only wait with baited breath as he calculated his height and hers, and the approximate depth of the well. It was simple arithmetic, but it still was a long-shot. But they needed to get out of this hole and back to hunting for clues.

"There's only one way out, and that's the same way we came in."

"You mean…climb up? But there's nothing we can grab onto!"

"How tall are you, Meg?" Meg raised an eyebrow at the strange question.

"I'm about one meter, 65 centimeters. Why?"

"That should be enough. I'm just shy of two meters."

"What are you thinking?"

Seron slid his legs out from under Meg, and stood up as best he could, his eyes locked on Meg's indigo ones, still glistening with concern.

"If I boost you up, you might be able to reach the surface, and then you can pull me up."

"Are you sure we can?" she asked, not entirely convinced. "We don't know how deep this hole is."

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," he revealed, his blank expression never changing. "But we have to try, or else we're stuck here."

Meg was hesitant, especially since there was no way of knowing if she could even reach the surface with Seron's help. But then again, anything was better than staying in this dirty, cramped pit and waiting for help to come. Even that was a long shot, since they could be waiting for hours before someone noticed they were missing. She gingerly stood up and sighed resignedly.

"Well, _I_ certainly don't have any better ideas…" Seron only nodded and cupped his hands to form a small step for her.

"Then, let's go."

Meg, still somewhat apprehensive, stepped forward and rested one foot on Seron's makeshift ledge. She pushed herself up, and rested the other foot on his shoulder while her hands gripped the dirt walls of the well to steady herself as she found stability. Seron did her best to steady himself and spread his legs apart for a wider base of support. The worst that could happen to them was if he slipped and both of them fell on top of each other. And landed in an even worse position.

He looked up to check on her progress, but quickly remembered Meg's choice of clothing and switched his view back to in front of him. Silently he waited, holding onto Meg's ankles as she reached up.

Meanwhile, Meg strained her body and stretched up as far as her muscles could allow. Surprisingly, the pit was not as deep as she thought it was, and Seron's calculations were not far off the mark. With her standing on his shoulders, she was just able to grasp the rim's edge. It took her standing on her tiptoes, but still, her hand felt the dry leaves around the rim.

"Seron, you're a genius!" she shouted down. "I'm going to climb out of here, so get ready. I need to jump!"

Biting her lip in anticipation, she gauged how far she would have to jump in her head. She didn't want to hurt Seron and set him back, either, but she had gotten this far. No way would she let something like a wartime pit trap stop her.

A surprisingly loud grunt preceded a jump, and Meg's hands caught the ledge of the hole. Her indigo eyes lit up and now she went to the harder work of climbing up and out. She had never done any kind of climbing in her life aside from the occasional tree back home, but that was nothing compared to this. She wondered if scaling the Central Mountains was as difficult as this.

Half of her body up to her torso emerged from the hole and she crawled out on her belly the rest of the way, as a trained soldier would through barbed wire. The sunlight revealed how dirty her clothes had gotten from the fall: dark spots blighted her beige dress, and the hem was frayed slightly from snags with stray roots. Well, she thought, this would certainly be the last time she wore a dress while out exploring.

Turning back to the hole, Meg looked over the ledge and saw Seron, his cobalt eyes illuminated like a cat's in the darkness of the pit. She reached down, her violet-tinged tresses spilling over her shoulder as she outstretched her arm.

"Okay, Seron. You're next!"

The poker-faced boy nodded and bent his knees, readying himself for a harder leap than any he ever did in gym class. It took all of his strength to jump, but somehow, he just managed to grab her hand before gravity tried to yank him back down. Just to be sure, he gripped her delicate hand with both of his, and rested his shoes on the walls.

"Keep it steady, Meg. I'm coming up."

Slowly and with care, Seron scaled the walls like a mountain climber. It did not take long before his head emerged from the rim, and was greeted with the bright smile of Meg.

Both paused for a moment to catch their breath after emerging from that trap. Although, there was something alluring about being trapped together down there, with only each other for company.

"You know," Meg thought aloud, "maybe we could have stayed down there for a little while longer."

Seron's eyebrows were raised in curiosity, a rare display of emotion for him.

"Why on earth would we do that?" Meg's lips curled in a mischievous grin.

"It would be just us in that pit…alone…"

"Wouldn't you rather keep looking for that treasure? There's no way of knowing if someone would have come by to help."

"Oh, I know. That's part of the fun."

Meg stood up, and brushed off excess dirt from her dress and fixed her hair before continuing on. Seron only stood up, his mind still perplexed by her idea. Well, perhaps it was just an idle fantasy. Nothing else to it.

"So," he said, panting, "shall we continue on?"

"Actually…"

Her lips pursed in anxiety, and her eyes glanced towards the dirt road that led them into the forest. Behind them lay the open fields and the main route towards Cape Laz to the north. As much as the thought of them being together in that pit sounded romantic, she was wary of more booby traps lying in wait. If what Seron said was true, then this whole forest could easily be full of them, just waiting to be sprung.

"…I think we should go back."

"Go back to Freiburg Cove?"

"No, I mean out of this forest. If what you say is right, then…there's no telling if we'll run into more traps in here. We're just asking for trouble."

Seron's legs curled up and he thought over the proposal. Indeed, that fall down the dirt well was hardly enjoyable, and he had often read of the kind of tactics both Roxchean and Bezelese troops used against each other on this island during the war. A pit was one thing, but oftentimes the traps could be deadlier. They were taking a risk by lingering here.

"That may be best, actually. Besides, looking for clues in these woods is difficult; the terrain and low visibility doesn't help matters. We may have a better chance of finding clues out in the open."

"So, you agree?"

"Yes. Besides, a pit is the least harmful trap we may encounter here. The other booby traps soldiers planted on this island often were…deadly."

A cold sweat coated Meg's brow, and her mouth became dry at the thought. It was not something her grandfather talked about in his journal. He may have had no experience with traps, but still…

"Deadly how?" she asked, somewhat reluctantly.

"Deadly as in blowing soldiers to bits, or taking off their limbs." A chill ran up the Bezelese girl's spine at that thought.

"Not high on my list of good things. In that case, more reason to get out of here. We'll leave the forest and head back onto the main road towards Cape Laz."

"Agreed."

Seron stood up, and ushered her to follow him out of the woods. Meg, not wanting to be separated from him yet again, clung as stubbornly to his hand as if held by glue. They cautiously tread out from whence they came, following the path they had made in the overgrown grass and the outline of the dirt road. All the while, both teenagers kept an eye on the ground for any traps that may yet lie in wait for them.

"How long have these traps been sitting here, do you think?" she quietly asked Seron.

"At least 30 years, considering when the Green Island War happened," he muttered as they followed the trail. "Although there were military outposts before conflict broke out, so it's likely some are older."

"Why haven't they all been removed or disabled?"

"The island fell within the buffer zone after the war, so no nationals from either side were allowed on the island. It's why the villages are all abandoned; anyone living on the island was relocated to both sides of the river."

"It surprises me we could come here at all…"

"The same thought occurred to me, actually. There are some sections of the island that are off-limits, though, due to unexploded mines."

Meg nodded, remembering a particularly graphic section of her grandfather's journal describing the result of one comrade stepping on a landmine. The results were…horrific. Too horrific for her to even share with Seron. Thankfully, he was right; the areas with unexploded mines would not be accessible to them. There would be no risk of them losing their limbs so gruesomely.

She smiled to herself, relishing how her boyfriend was so knowledgeable. It was a trait of his that she admired greatly, as his stories and explanations filled her with awe. How was it a boy as young as he could know so much?

It was yet another reason she felt so privileged to be his girlfriend.

So caught up was she in her daydreams and both in their conversations that neither noticed a patch of leaves barely concealing a crochet of ropes knotted together, forming a mesh-like net. Once both stepped into the mesh, Seron heard a loud "SNAP!" like the cracking of a whip. The ground seemed to erupt from beneath them, and both were hoisted into the air like fish being pulled out from the water. Meg screamed in surprise as she saw the leaf-covered earth leave her feet.

Seron cursed silently to himself at being caught in another trap. His history and travel books were not lying when they said traps were prolific on the island. The more they were caught in these, the more time would be wasted. They had to get out of this and out of these woods quickly!

But, as he tried to discern a way out, he found once again that he and Meg were in a compromising position, thanks to the entanglement of the net. He was lying right on top of her, both of his arms locked behind her back as was hers behind his, like lovers on their wedding night. To make matters worse, his face was smothered by two soft, round objects of beige, which shifted slightly every time Meg breathed. Her…bust?

The normally cool and calm school star's lips trembled and his face grew beet red. It was bad enough they fell into another trap, but to be locked in another bad place with Meg? This was truly the worst! Meg regained her consciousness and soon realized the situation. Although she was dreaming of being close to Seron in the future, this was really pushing it!

"S-stop looking there!" Meg scolded, trying to push his face away from her chest.

Seron suddenly felt his shoulders grabbed by her, and he was roughly pushed back, but it only made their situation that much worse. There was no way he could easily maneuver in the web of the mesh, and he only succeeded in inching closer to her face the more she fought.

The distance between their faces was now less than the width of a butterfly's wing, and their eyes were locked with each other. Meg realized that, for the first time since she met him, Seron's eyes quivered, and his face awash in red. If he could show such emotions to her, it must have meant he trusted her that deeply.

"Meg," he tried to say, "stop moving! We're only making it worse!"

The Beeleeze girl sighed with mild frustration. Why did her boyfriend have to be so cute and handsome at the same time?

"So…how do we get ourselves out of this…?"

"This may be…ngh…difficult," he thought aloud, trying to look around. "Unless you want to scream for help and have everyone find us like this, we have to cut the net open."

He tried to look to his right, but only succeeded in bumping his forehead against hers. She winced at the light collision.

"Agh, I'm sorry, Meg! I can't help it!"

"Gods, I hate this! When we see Kobayashi again, remind me to punch her in the face for this."

"As if we need a reason, am I right?"

He reached one hand out from behind her back, and tried to reach into his pocket, hoping to find something to cut them free. It was like maneuvering in a tight crawling maze, and every move he made affected Meg in some way. When his hand reached for his pocket, he accidentally brushed near her center, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"M-Meg?"

"J-Just keep moving!" she pressed, her face red with embarrassment.

Not wanting to prolong her suffering any further, he dived into his pocket and looked around, trying to find something, anything that could help them. He felt something, and grasped it firmly.

"I think we may get out of this."

Slowly and with care, he pulled out a small pocketknife cloaked in a red casing. Meg's indigo eyes lit up at the sight.

"Yes, that is perfect!"

With care, he flicked up the pocketknife and started to look for a place to cut away. As his free hand gripped one of the loops, Seron began to cut away at a second of the net behind Meg's head. Although she was happy that they would be free, the shaking and bouncing from Seron's efforts only upset her even more.

Her body inadvertently ground against Seron's leg, and, with her beau solely focused on freeing them, he was completely oblivious to how she was affected.

"H-hey, are you done yet?" she asked, slightly impatient.

"Just give me a few moments," he said matter-of-factly as he cut open another loop.

The path of Seron's cuts followed the outline of their bodies. With each loop cut, their bodies shifted and Meg could feel gravity slowly reaching for them. The bouncing did not subside, though, and it only made the wait more tortuous for her. The Bezelese girl turned her head and looked down through one of the loops, and saw just how high up they were. Even if they did manage to cut through the nets, they would still have to find a safe way down to earth.

"You okay, Meg?" he asked as he cut through another loop.

"I-I'm fine...although...maybe this isn't a good idea."

"What do you mean? Don't you want to get out of here?"

"Of course, I do, but...that looks like...a very long droOOOOOOP!"

Seron had not even finished cutting open a loop near Meg's waist when both of them fell through the slit in the net. They had managed to free themselves from the net, but now had a new dilemma of how to cushion their fall. Neither had even taken into account just how high up the net had hoisted them, and it seemed both were in for a less than graceful landing. Meg only closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact, praying it would be as painless as possible from this height.

She heard a loud thump and a masculine groan, but only was followed by another harder thud further away. A wince left her lips, fearful of what harm awaited her, but she would be spared from such a fate. Instead, she heard a loud CREAK and felt something catch her, her fall ending abruptly.

Finally, she opened her eyes, but saw that the terra firma was still some distance from her, at least 2 meters' distance. A little behind her and below her she saw Seron writhing in the leaves, unconscious from the hard fall. But if she was above him, then that meant…

Looking behind her, Meg put two and two together, and realized what had happened. An errant branch managed to catch her by the rear hem of her dress, holding her aloft. She sighed irritably, wondering if there was anyone with worse misfortune than her. This whole adventure was shaping up to be one mishap after another.

"Of all the worst possible luck…I didn't like being in the net, but this isn't a good substitute…"

Meg looked around, trying to find a less hazardous way back to earth, but something strange caught her eye. Behind the trunk of an oak off in the distance and to her right, a dark silhouette spied on them. The figure was rather tall, and had an hourglass-shaped outline. Although it was impossible to tell from this distance, Meg could swear she had seen that body before. No, it couldn't be…!

"Kobayashi…!"

CRACK!

The branch holding her above the ground broke in two and sent her back into a freefall. Thankfully the distance to cover was shorter, and it did not end nearly as painfully as it did for Seron. Her backside was only slightly sore as she stood up and gently rubbed it, looking back to the oak tree. The figure, who had evidently realized it was spotted, made a mad dash away from her and off to the right. In the direction of a murky bog at the base of a dell.

"Hey, you!" she cried. "Come back here, right now!"

Completely forgetting Seron, who still lay unconscious, she made off after the figure and down the hill. Towards the swampland below.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Obviously there is more to the search for Maximilian's treasure than what Meg and Seron see, and so here the other members of the Newspaper Club fill the gaps. However, they have some troubles of their own. Content warning: there is some violence in this chapter, mostly due to a gun battle that takes place on the island. If you are squeamish when it comes to combat, it's probably best to skip this chapter. Also, there is some light fanservice in this chapter.**

 **You have been warned.**

 **With that, read on and enjoy the rest of Green Island!**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: The Search (Newspaper Club Side)**

While Meg and Seron explored the forests around Freiburg Cove and tried to make their way to the north side of the island, Larry and Nicholas covered the south side and Jenny and Natalia the base of the mountains. The south side bore witness to the arrival of Roxchean forces during the Green Island War, and surprisingly, one of the first battles in the land war.

A small, dirt trail led the two young lads towards the shallow remains of trenches facing the beach, less than two kilometers away from them. Larry was particularly intrigued by this, and jumped down into the trenches. He walked along the remains, forming a zigzagging line running from east to west for about 500 meters. How was it possible that the Bezelese Army engaged so far forward, especially when they landed on the opposite side of the island? Were these advance scouts? Or were they even Bezelese at all?

Out of all of them, Larry was the most acquainted with the military, being a soldier's son himself and looking to join the military after graduation. He always excelled in weapons training and in military science, so it was no surprise he would be drawn to this. Still, the history of the war was little more than a distant memory and words on pages to the others, like Nicholas. All he could do was watch his friend in confusion and loss.

"So…what are you thinking, Larry?"

Larry leaned forward and rested his head on the grass, gazing out at the beaches in the distance. He blinked, and for a fleeting second, he could see the battle play out on these same fields.

"A battle happened here."

"I can tell, but which? And this far down? This is where Roxchean troops landed, isn't it?"

"Yes. But that's what bothers me. I can't believe that there were Bezelese soldiers this far south. It had to be some other kind of group, but what…?"

Nicholas looked off behind him and saw the village in the distance, nestled at the base of the mountain. Green Island had been inhabited for much of recorded history, but the war for its control drove anyone who still resided there out, as it fell within the buffer zone. Any villages that were settled in the past were now long deserted. As for who settled them…

"Say, Larry, do you remember in our history classes who settled Green Island before the war?"

"Not much. The textbooks never said much about it. I suspect people from both sides of the river came here over the course of generations, though. Why?"

"Maybe some villagers tried to defend their island. They wanted to be left in peace and so fought both Roxchean and Bezelese alike."

"That could be…of course, they did not stand much chance."

Larry jumped out of the trenches and headed towards the beaches. Nicholas followed him, and both were drawn to the rusted-out carcass of a medium tank. The suspension of the tank was rather light; eight wheels held in four bogies with leaf springs provided the motive power, before the sure aim of an antitank rifleman knocked out the tracks and damaged one wheel. The turret was pointed slightly to the right, its 47-millimeter gun aiming at the far-left side of the trenches. If villagers did dig trenches and fight here, they were surprisingly well-armed.

"Unless one of the locals had an anti-tank gun, there's no way they could have taken this S35 down. It's meant to go toe-to-toe with enemy armor. There had to have been regulars here."

"But that's impossible!" Nicholas protested. "Bezelese forces couldn't have ventured this far down, could they?"

"Not much of them, no. Much of the heavy fighting happened on the open plains further north, closer to Cape Laz. That's just what makes this rather odd…"

Larry circled around the tank, looking for any clues that could give them a lead. Like a detective he studied the rotting carcass with careful blue eyes. Some distance behind the tank, a field gun stood ready to fire, the muzzle pointed upward at a low angle. It looked to be a light artillery gun, the kind used by Roxchean forces for close support.

"Maybe the Bezelese Royal Army had reconnaissance forces sent down here to hold up the Roxcheans while the main part landed further north. They were just here to delay them."

Nicholas looked back at the trench, and was unconvinced. Even if Larry's hunch was right (as it usually was in military matters), it still did not explain some things.

"That would have been very risky," he thought aloud. "Sending your comrades down here just for slowing the Roxchean advance? That would be like handing a death sentence."

"Not necessarily. If it's just a delaying action, they could easily fall back to a more defensible position, or just get out of dodge once the main forces had landed."

"Villagers could do the same thing."

"And take out a tank? With artillery firing down on them? Not a chance. Bezelese infantry could handle our tanks, in case you forgot."

Larry and Nicholas followed the trail of the trenches to the right, closer to the base of the mountains. A small memorial plaque, mounted on a steel beam, stood beside the trenches and gave them the answers they were looking for.

Upon closer inspection, Larry read it out loud. The writing had faded from years of disuse.

"Battle of Gorka Landing. On the 7th of September 3277 WC, Roxchean forces arriving from Freiburg Cove and Gorka Beach encountered an advance scouting party of the Bezelese Royal Guard. Armed with high-powered anti-tank rifles and submachine guns, the 275 men of the 45th Royal Guard Scouts Regiment held up an entire column of Roxchean tanks and infantry for two days."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows in surprise. Larry's hunch had proved right, as it usually did in realms of the martial. Leave it to him to be the club's 'battlefield detective.' Still, he had to wonder if this was where Sir Maximilian met Bezelese troops that led him on his journey towards the other side of the island.

"Despite the immense numerical disparity," Larry continued, "Bezelese troops managed to down 20 tanks of the 76th Armored Regiment and left over 400 Roxcheans killed and wounded. The Royal Scouts Guard Regiment suffered 150 casualties before withdrawing to the village of Gorka, some three kilometers west."

"Looks like you were right, Larry," Nicholas said, smiling.

Larry nodded, and looked back at the trench, and spotted something odd in the grass. He knelt to pick it up, and found it to be a button, the kind found on a jacket or a coat. However, something gave away its origins, and gave them another clue.

"What's up this time?"

"Look at this button. Notice anything odd about it?"

Nicholas took the button and examined it. It seemed to be made of brass, given its hue of tarnish: light green and white. Engraved in the button was a decoration that seemed more befitting of a naval officer than a foot soldier. Two anchors formed a cross while a spool of rope formed the Bezelese emblem of the curved saber around them. Inscribed along the circumference of the button was what Larry could only assume to be the motto of the Bezelese Royal Navy.

"What's a Bezelese Navy button doing here?" Nicholas asked aloud. "Maybe this was a marine detachment holding them back?"

"Not likely. The Royal Guard was officially a part of the Army."

"But then that means…"

Larry nodded, smiling.

"This was Sir Maximilian's button. He was here at the Battle of Gorka Landing." Nicholas' eyes lit up in anticipation and he laughed triumphantly.

"That means we're on the right track! After this battle, Sir Maximilian must have retreated with them into the village."

"Right. That's our next stop."

The two boys set off on the remains of a curved road which led towards the mountains. There, the village of Gorka stood, empty and alone, shadowed by the snow-capped summit of the mountain. Just like every settlement on this island. At least, that is what they all believed to be true.

Nationals from both the western and eastern sides of the river had settled Green Island (or Lestki Island, as it was called in Roxche) long before the war broke out. Some came claiming the island for their respective nations. Others came looking for riches to bring home. Still others came just to escape the madness of war. The numerous settlements gave birth to the original dispute over the island's sovereignty. What proved to be ironic was the war did not answer the question of who owned the island.

After the war, the island fell in the middle of the demilitarized buffer zone, and anyone who did live on the island were resettled on their respective sides. All the original villages now lay abandoned, standing only as monuments to the futility of the war.

Jenny and Natalia were not deterred, knowing that abandoned villages would be a prime place to leave behind clues or even leave some treasure. But with no idea of what the treasure could be, or even where to look inside the villages, the search was tougher than finding a needle in a haystack. To pass time as well as lessen the sense of dread that they were in over their heads, Natalia asked an idle question. At least, it seemed idle to her.

"So, Jenny…who would you rather date: Nicholas or Larry?"

Jenny looked back at her friend and right hand-woman with ruby eyes the size of a bug's. Natalia hardly seemed the person to care about matters of the heart, so hearing her ask such a question was…strange.

"Huh? Where's this coming from?"

"I'm curious," she said innocently while looking inside an empty barrel. "So, who do you prefer?"

Jenny pondered the question for a moment, searching through a catalog of memories of their time together as club members. She certainly knew about them before they joined, but it was quite different from having them in her company, together with her on missions for the newspaper.

"Well, Nick seems way too pretty, to be honest. There's not much to him aside from having weird rumors spread about him and Seron together. As for Larry…"

Natalia leaned towards Jenny intently, startling the redhead.

"Yes?"

"W-well, as I was saying," Jenny continued. "Larry seems like the better option. He can be laid-back and a little lazy at times, but he's also reliable, funny, and outgoing."

"Interesting…" Natalia nodded slowly, as if what she heard was educational.

"So why the question, Nata? I didn't think you were all that interested in romance."

Natalia averted her eyes from her friend's intensively suspicious stare and adjusted her glasses with a slight shake in her fingers. The façade of the cool, levelheaded girl who always was at Jenny's side revealed a crack. It was not often she talked about this to anyone, least of all her. Was it because Jenny was the only one she trusted with this? Or was there simply no one else with whom she could share these feelings?

"Neither did I. But…"

But?"

"I was just thinking, is all. I mean, isn't it natural to think about it on occasion?" Jenny scoffed, not entirely convinced.

"Maybe, but…it's still not like you," she pressed, looking through an empty window into an abandoned bakery. "I mean, I get that when Seron joined the club he was just doing it to be close to Meg, and we all did our best to help it along. But even so…"

Jenny trailed off, not quite sure why her friend, the cool, always hungry, and adventurous big sister of their group, could even entertain the thought of romance. She did her part to advance Meg and Seron's relationship, of course, but she was no different from Jenny, or Larry in that respect.

"Nata…don't tell me that…you have a crush on Larry?"

Natalia, for perhaps the first time in her tenure as a club member, looked back at Jenny with a look of surprise and disbelief in her eyes.

"What?! W-well, that's quite a bold question to ask, Jennifer! Who s-said I was crushing on Larry?" Jenny smirked and her ruby eyes narrowed with mischief glowing.

"Oh, you can ask those kinds of questions, but _I_ can't? Well, methinks the lady doth protest too much…!"

She spun around on her heels, satisfied with the answer and went back to searching. Her focus was centered on two pages held down by the weight of a crate.

"But don't worry, I get it. You two have known each other since you were in kindergarten, right? You always liked to tease him and challenge him in games and stuff. It's easy for anyone to see if you're standing off to the side. I won't tell him, though…" The brown-haired girl with the glasses glanced back at the redhead, somewhat hopeful.

"R-really...?" Jenny's impish smile never left her lips.

"Hey, it's Jenny, your gal pal. I wouldn't lie to you."

Natalia sighed a small sigh of relief. It was as if a burden was lifted from her small shoulders.

"I appreciate that."

Jenny bent down and pulled out the two pages from underneath the crate and examined them. The writing was in Bezelese, making it an instant tell. While foreign language classes were mandatory for all in their school, it did not necessarily mean everyone was as well-versed or fluent as a result. The impish redhead struggled in parituclar, as she rotated the pages every way she could, trying to decipher the writing.

"Man, where's Meg when you need her...?"

From the corner of her eye, Natalia noticed ruins from a distance away. If she didn't know any better, it looked like an entrance gate to a shrine.

"Jenny, you've got to see this."

"In a minute. Gotta try and at least decipher some of this..."

Jenny sat down on the dirt road, trying to remember all the vocabulary she learned in Bezelese classes. But Natalia's attention had shifted completely to investigating a shrine. Even in days when religion had lost its influence over daily life, there were still believers in every corner of the world. She could remember a time when her parents often took her to mass, to pray for success for their daughter. The whole thing seemed silly to her in retrospect, but even with her skepticism, a shrine like this was intriguing.

"I know there are still believers out there," Natalia thought aloud, "but this doesn't look like an ordinary shrine..."

As she scanned around the ruined shrine, her feet stepped on a piece of paper. Out of curiosity, she picked it up and could only see foreign letters. Bezelese, no doubt.

"Meg's mother language. What could this mean?"

"Natalia?" a familiar, masculine-sounding voice hailed from behind her.

The bespectacled girl almost jumped into the air at her name being called, only to find the two other boys from the Newspaper Club, Nicholas and Larry. Her heart, still beating at almost 100 kilometers an hour, was stuck in her throat as she tried to catch her breath.

"No fair," Larry joked. "You found this place first before us."

"Good gods, you two," Natalia sighed, "You gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry about that," Nicholas offered, "but you seemed pretty interested in that shrine. We've been looking for you and Jenny. Larry thinks he picked up Maximilian's trail."

Natalia glanced at her old friend and an eyebrow raised above her glasses.

"Really? Do tell."

"We found a button from a Royal Navy uniform near a battle site some ways from here. Turns out a regiment of Bezelese troops were here and engaged Roxcheans before falling back."

"He most likely linked up with those troops and followed them into the village," Nicholas added.

"Hey, guys!" Jenny shouted as she joined them at the shrine. "You are not going to believe what I found in these notes! It's going to blow your mind for sure!"

"Well, don't leave us in suspense, Jenny. What do the papers say?"

Just when the ruby-eyed girl was about to reveal what she read, there was a red dot between her eyes. Nicholas' normally relaxed eyes bulged out in shock and fear. Without hesitation, the long-haired boy leaped in and shielded the petite redhead with his body.

"TAKE COVER, NOW!"

Larry and Natalia instantly obeyed and jumped for shelter, just as a loud noise shattered any illusions of an eventless scavenger hunt.

BANG!

A gunshot echoed in the ruined shrine. Suddenly, more gunshots followed suit, targeting the walls. It was like a series of corks being popped from bottles of champagne. But the corks were deadly, as each bullet chipped off a piece of stone when it ricocheted. Jenny, whose body was shielded by Nicholas, barely had time to thank him before she was carried off to the remains of the shrine altar.

Nicholas cut quite a dashing figure as he sprinted through the lead hailstorm, his long brown tresses flying behind him like the streaks of an airplane. Her cheeks burned slightly at seeing him set her down behind the altar, and for what felt like an eternity, she didn't know whether to faint or thank him. Any answer she may have had was unnecessary, however, as Nicholas asked the question all of them wanted answered:

"Who the hell is firing at us?"

"Yeah…" Jenny remarked finally, having gained some composure. "I thought all the settlements were cleared out! Are these people rebels or something?"

"Rebels against who? No one's lived here for generations, Jen!"

Behind an overturned pew, Larry peeked through what used to be the front entrance, trying to discern where the fire was coming from. He spotted what looked to be an old bakery where several orange blasts flashed through the windows like beacons in the night. And by the rate of "pops," they were using automatic weapons. Weapons that were too modern for some old hermits defending their turf.

"I smell a rat in all of this," he said to Natalia. "A rat named Saya Kobayashi."

"What are you thinking, Larry?"

"No way some hicks out in the hinterlands could get weapons that advanced. We're up against mercenaries. Someone had to pay them a lot of money to come out here and target us."

"And who else would pay them but her, right?"

"Yeah. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"So, what do we do?"

"We should get out of here quietly and find Seron and Meg. No doubt Saya will be going directly for them."

Larry saw an opening to his left, where an archway and walls had long crumbled and created a new entrance and exit. If they were careful, they could sneak out of the shrine undetected and out of Gorka village altogether. Perhaps down there was a shortcut to the main road leading north.

He nudged Natalia, and pointed to the fallen archway, and with it their means of escape. She nodded, knowing what he was planning. If there was a way they could get out of this without taking any losses, they would take it. Natalia looked to Nicholas and Jenny and leaned her head to the left, indicating their plan.

Keeping their heads down, all four youngsters slinked out of the shrine and to the left down an alleyway. It was overgrown, teeming with dandelions and daisies and tall blades of grass. One would hardly believe it to be anything other than a jungle. But it provided an easy avenue of escape as the guns kept firing, and for a moment, it looked like any confrontation would be avoided. That is, until a man dressed in brown fatigues and a black facemask came skulking down the alleyway, brandishing a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun.

Larry told everyone to scatter and hide in the tall grass, but it was too late. The armed man saw them, and raised his shotgun to his shoulder, pointing it at Larry. Every muscle tensed, and Larry tried to remember every moment of physical training he ever had. Every kick, punch and dodge he learned in his time. He had to act fast or those shotgun pellets would find themselves embedded in their bodies.

Without a moment's consideration, Larry launched himself forward like a track runner, and barreled straight into the gunman. As soon as their bodies collided, Larry reached for the barrel of the shotgun and tried to wrestle it from his hands. But a fight between a teenager and a veteran mercenary was hardly fair; the rest of the club soon intervened to lend a hand. Natalia, Jenny and Nicholas soon piled on as well, dragging him down to the ground. The girls grabbed the man by the shoulders and dragged him down while Nicholas delivered a swift kick to his shins for good measure. That was enough to subdue the gunman and for Larry to wrest control of the weapon from him.

Just to be sure he would not be a problem again, Larry swung the shotgun like a cudgel and connected with the man's face. A loud groan followed as two teeth were knocked out, before another blow struck the man on the head, putting him in the earth outright.

With the gunman subdued and no longer a problem, Larry scavenged the ammunition belt off him and claimed the shotgun as his own. Of course, a short-range shotgun with a maximum effective range of 20 meters was not enough to win a fight. It would take cunning, tactics, and speed. They needed something else to get out of this alive.

" _Grayson, come in! Did you take care of those brats yet?"_

All eyes of the Newspaper Club glanced back at the unconscious body of Grayson, and saw he was wearing a wireless radio headset. Another advantage to have in this battle, Larry thought. Upon grabbing the headset, he listened in on chatter and led the club down the alleyway towards a winding dirt road running through the village. Larry ordered everyone to stop short of the road, and peaked around the corner, and saw the muzzle flashes from the bakery. He counted at least four in the building, but there was no telling if there were more in this village.

" _Grayson, why don't you answer?! We're holding them in place from here; you just need to finish the job!"_

" _You better not screw this up, Grayson! Miss Kobayashi paid us good money for this job!"_ Larry ground his teeth at those words.

"Saya _is_ behind this. Got it straight from the horse's mouth."

"That bitch!" Jenny growled angrily.

"She's out of control!" Nicholas added.

"Don't worry none, you guys," Larry promised, cocking the shotgun. "She's not getting away with any of this. Not while we're on this island."

Larry told everyone to stay back as he sprinted across the road to the other side of the village. The squad of mercenaries were completely oblivious to his flanking move, as their focus was only on suppressing their club in the shrine. That much was clear through the chatter.

" _Hurry up and take 'em out, Grayson! We can't keep this up forever!"_

" _You don't think those kids got him, do you?"_

" _Nonsense. What could four little kids do?"_

Larry suppressed a laugh as he came upon the bakery's back entrance.

"More than you know."

He slowly opened the door and slinked in, looking at the front room facing the street. He counted five gunmen with their focus entirely pinned on the shrine. His grip tightened, seeing an opportunity to end this quickly. If he could even just get them to surrender arms, it would be a victory. However, any hopes of a bloodless end proved to be in vain, as one gunmen knelt beneath the window to reload his submachine gun. Larry caught his eye, and he nudged one of his comrades to the danger behind him.

"One of 'em's behind us! Watch it!"

There was no time to negotiate or think it through. Larry pulled the trigger, and a loud boom shook the bakery.

The reloading gunman was killed with several pellets to his chest, while his comrade was wounded with a few more to his left side and groin. When one was killed and with that shot, every remaining gunman turned his attention behind him. The fight was on.

A shotgun had the advantage of a wide pellet spread in close quarters, meaning multiple targets could be taken down in one shot. Larry knew it well, and he did not hesitate in pumping a new round and firing again. A slight mist of wooden splinters and gunpowder cloaked the bakery, but another scream and a thud to the floorboards revealed another kill. A few speckles of blood stained Larry's trousers as he reloaded, but a mercenary had now turned his attention fully to Larry.

An all-metal submachine gun holding a 30-round box magazine discharged several rounds, but Larry was quick on his feet. He dove behind a cashier's counter just as several splinters flew around like grenade shards. Despite being pinned down behind cover, the young wannabe soldier was not about to be deterred. Even he could fight.

He blind fired over the counter and pumped the shotgun again. Another round launched, and the sound of pellets contacting flesh and a loud, agonized cry. Thinking the momentum was back with him, he jumped over the counter again and hoped to finally finish the fight.

His round had managed to wound one mercenary in his arm and leave him out of action, with one more mercenary to deal with. A tall, burly man, dressed all in black down to his leather boots, reached for his pistol, a silvery large-caliber magnum. Larry reflexively squeezed the trigger, but only heard the dreaded sound of "click!"

Larry's throat suddenly felt thinner than a drinking straw, and thought he would choke. There was no time to reload, and if he did not do something now, he would be dead with a large hole in his body. But what could he do? Was the answer to rush him and barrel his way through? Tackle him to the ground?

Any options he had were rendered null however as he saw a large white plank rise up behind the mercenary like a spirit from the grave. It swiftly struck him on the head with a loud "crack!" breaking the plank in half.

The mercenary's head turned red with blood, and his grip loosened on the pistol before falling forward with a loud sigh. The fall revealed Larry's savior: Seron Maxwell.

Seron was visibly winded and looked like he had seen battles untold. His shirt and slacks were covered in dirt and torn in a few places. Even his shoes were scuffed and almost worn through to the soles. His hair was a wreck, and his normally strong, steely cobalt eyes seemed dull, tired, and empty.

"Seron!" Larry said with a smile. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

Seron wiped away a sheet of sweat and sighed heavily. Tossing away the broken plank, he looked over the results of the firefight. Larry had wreaked terrible havoc on the mercenaries. Three lay dead, with one wounded, and another one unconscious, not counting the one left in the alleyway. Seron could not help but be in awe at his friend's strength and courage. He knew Larry was a hopeful soldier, and usually provided the muscle to their club, but he never thought he would see this strength in deadly results.

Larry calmly reloaded his shotgun, not minding the smoke in his eyes or the errant blood on his clothes.

"I see you have been busy, Larry. What's going on?"

"These guys are Saya's lackeys, you can be sure of that. She must have paid these mercenaries a lot of money to be willing to kill us." A skeptical eyebrow rose, but Seron's expression remained unchanged.

"Kill?"

"Yeah, they almost took down all of us. One moment we were exploring a shrine, and the next minute, it's a full-on war."

The other members of the Newspaper Club filed into the bakery, all relieved to see their friends safe.

"You're alive, Larry!" Natalia cried, overjoyed. "Thank the gods!"

Larry almost fell over as Natalia grabbed her friend and embraced him tightly. It was rare to see the normally calm and witty girl this excited about anything, but it was hardly surprising. It was a major battle, after all. Jenny, in the meantime, confronted Seron, astonished to see him.

"Seron, what are you doing here? You should be up north with Meg. Did something happen?"

"I lost her in the woods. We ran into a few traps, and decided it was safer to just go up north to Cape Laz. But as we were coming out of the woods, I lost sight of her."

"Then we need to find her, fast!" Jenny encouraged. "There might be more bastards in this island."

However, they didn't have to go far because a familiar scream echoed from across the land. The scream turned a switch in Seron's head. It was familiar, a scream of fear he had heard before, and it did not sound far off.

"That's Meg…!"

"If those hired guns got to her…" Nicholas thought aloud.

"If Saya got to her…" Natalia feared.

Seron ran in the direction of the scream without a word, and all instinctively followed him. It did not matter that there were bodies lying around, needed disposal and burial. Their friend had to come first. If mercenaries were sent to kill them, it was a matter of life and death.

It was a good thing that Meg's father taught her some self-defense lessons during her childhood days. But, she never would have thought that she would resort to using them against somebody. Saya struck first though, so, it was only fair that she showed her what for. Nobody was going to take Seron or take away her grandfather's treasure away from her.

As she dodged a punch to the face, Meg countered with a kick to the shins and then an elbow to the side hip. Saya stumbled, but managed to retain her footing and tried to shove the younger girl down, but Meg was not about to be done in by her. She dragged her down, and for a while they simply rolled in the earth, not realizing how close they were to a small precipice.

"Straussky..." Saya managed. "I don't want your stinking treasure. I'll gladly let you have it, so long as you sign off on our marriage."

"Sign off?" Meg scoffed. "You mean, dump Seron so you can have him. Never."

With a breath of frustration, she rolled on top of Saya and continued with the wrestling.

"Why are you so obsessed with him, Kobayashi? Can't you get it into your skull that he doesn't like you?"

Saya grit her teeth and kicked her hard in the abdomen, throwing her off just enough to grab her by the right leg. With all of her might the older girl put Meg's leg in a strong lock, strong enough for her to feel the strain in her joints. Meg tried her best to fight, but Saya was undeterred.

"Oh, you misunderstand me, Straussky. Whether he likes me or not doesn't matter. That arrangement was made LONG before you came into the picture! It was set in stone, and you cannot change it! Who do you think you are, just barging in and claiming him like it's nothing?!"

Finally, Meg fought back and punched Saya hard on the head, before standing firm on her free leg and shaking her off. It took all her strength, and another hard lob to Saya's gut, but she managed to free herself.

A part of her wanted to push Saya off the cliff and be done with the messy rivalry. But, Meg just couldn't truly follow through with that plan. Anger begetting anger wouldn't solve anything in this situation. So, she tried to convince her arch enemy. She wasn't trying to redeem her, but to make her understand the error of her ways.

"You...are very troubled," Meg stated, through heavy pants. "And very confused. Seron told me all about it. That you were engaged to be married to him since birth. Don't you think that's just strange, Kobayashi? To have everything just be decided for you, without your input or suggestions?"

"That's the way it's always been, Megmica Straussky. It's nothing that a commoner like you would understand! That's how society has been for eons, and it will be that way long after you and I are gone. Do you believe your opinions will change that? Don't make me laugh!"

Saya rushed at her rival and collided with the force of a freight train, trying to throw her off the precipice and into the muddy swamp below. If there was a chance to settle this at last, she would seize it here and now. But Meg was stronger than her diminutive appearance suggested; she stood strong, and refused to fall back one centimeter before pushing against Saya's force with her own.

"Well, in that case," Meg declared, "I'll have to beat it out of you!"

And with that, Meg kneed her in the stomach and slapped her across the face, hard. But, she didn't stop there. The shorter girl grabbed her collar and punched her again. Then, she grabbed both Saya's arms, like a cop arresting a thief in the middle of a robbery.

"Give up, now!"  
"NEVER!"

Saya threw back her head back and collided with Meg's, knocking her into a brief daze. It was enough for her as she swung around and tripped Meg with her right leg behind her, before giving her a firm shove in the direction of the precipice. That sent her staggering back before finally realizing where she was heading. Meg flailed her arms frantically to shift her balance away from the edge of the precipice. The worst that could happen to her was to meet a muddy, dirty fate in the swamp below. Saya could only look on in amusement, her lips wide in a devilish grin.

Just as Meg had regained her footing, Saya reached out her left hand and gave the Bezelese girl a push in the center of her back, sending her plummeting over the edge, screaming.

"OH NOOOOOOOOO!"

As Meg fell face-first towards the muck of the swamp below, she feebly threw up her hands to shield herself from the impact to come. The winds whistled past her ears and flapped at her skirts as she prayed the landing would be as painless as possible. How was it that she was bested by such a lowly and vile character as Saya Kobayashi? Where did she go wrong?

SPLAT!

The fall abruptly ended with her landing in the swamp, but fortunately for Meg, the muck was viscous enough to soften the impact. Unfortunately, she found herself submerged upside-down up to her waist as if having performed a perfect dive into the school's swimming pool. She now lay stuck in the mud, legs straight up in the air, and the beige skirt of her dress wrapped around her legs. But even this would not last, as gravity eventually won out over any hopes of modesty she may have had.

Her skirt's hem bloomed out and downward in a circular pattern like the petals of a flower. As her skirt fell, it revealed the stamens of her long, well-sculpted legs topped by stylish Mary Jane shoes with floral buckles. The skirt finished opening and rested around her in a perfect circle to reveal the center of the flower: Meg's plump bottom clad in pink panties embroidered with red strawberries and trimmed with white lace on the leg holes and waistband.

Beneath the surface of the mud, Meg's face burned bright red with humiliation at her predicament. It was bad enough that she lost to Saya, but to end up in such an embarrassing position! She could only pray that no one else was around to see her like this, as she tried to find a way back to the surface.

Meanwhile, at the top of the precipice, Saya could not stop laughing at the sight of mortified Meg in the muck. She may have been a tough little fighter, but that did not compensate her juvenile taste in fashion. How could Seron fall for such an immature girl as her?

"Meg!" a familiar voice called in the distance. "Meg, can you hear me?! Where are you?!"

"HEY MEG!" a shriller, feminine voice yelled. "BE CAREFUL! LOOKS LIKE SAYA SENT SOME HIRED GUNS AFTER US!"

Saya ground her teeth and her laughter stopped at the cries of the Newspaper Club. She thought for sure those mercenaries could handle Meg's friends easily. And after she paid them a good sum to keep them in check, too! Was it possible to count on anyone?!

Looking through the tree line beyond the swamp, she thought she spotted a few silhouettes approaching. They seemed to be young, all of them were of the same build. What's more, upon squinting and straining her eyes, she thought she spotted the well-ordered haircut and the stoic cobalt eyes of Seron Maxwell. No, now was not the time to confront him on this. There would be a moment, but that moment was not yet.

Not wanting to be captured, she started to make her way to lower grounds and avoid capture. But it seemed that karma was not yet done with Saya Kobayashi, and would not be content with letting her go out unscathed. One fancy Mary Jane shoe with a silver buckle rested on a loose patch of dirt. It gave way, and the older girl lost her footing.

Saya Kobayashi slid down the side of the precipice faster than a log on a flume, and she suppressed an urge to scream in fright. She would not give away her position so easily. Her vision became a blur of green, brown and black, and it became difficult for her to see where she would land, or what was in her path. But while she could not see, she could hear, and what she heard was not appealing at all.

RRRIIIIIIIIPP!

Something in her wardrobe tore apart and left her feeling colder and more vulnerable, but she could not easily discern what she lost as she continued falling and sliding. Then, her foot locked on a loose root, and sent her flying in a tailspin through the air before finally landing with a hard "thump!" in the slightly soft soil near the edge of the swamp. Saya writhed on the ground for a moment and glanced back at the swamp. Meg was visibly struggling to emerge from the muck, her long, graceful legs kicking frantically and her proud buttocks wobbling with each effort. She snickered at the sight, but that was all she could do as she saw Seron emerge from the woods. The time had long come for her to go, but first she needed to find out what she had lost in the fall.

Looking behind her made her face turn bright red, as karma had seen fit to bequeath her a "tit-for-tat" punishment. In the fall, a longer, more dried up root had snagged her forest green skirt and ripped it off her waist. It now hung halfway up the side of the cliff like a tattered flag, and left her deep violet silk panties trimmed with lace, wrapped delicately around her wide hips, completely exposed to any who found her.

Damn, she thought, could she not be afforded one victory in this fight?

Her sharp eyes bounced back to the swamp, where Seron, struck still in surprise, could only look on with his face a hot pink. Meanwhile, Natalia and Jenny trudged through the muck and pulled Meg out by her legs. Larry and Nicholas finally shook Seron out of his stupor by turning him around, so he was no longer gawking at Meg's exposed behind.

Saya's eyes glanced back at her ripped skirt, still snagged on the root. She sighed and groaned quietly in frustration, recognizing that she would have to leave something behind, lest she be captured.

This was not over.

This was just the beginning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'm late, I know. But honestly, the last few weeks I haven't really felt myself. Job hunting and just getting yourself ready for the next step of your life can wear on you. But I have this thing completely written, as I've said, and we are coming close to the end of this story now. It's not a long one, I know, but the first Meg and Seron story wasn't incredibly long, either. After this we have two more chapters where the treasure is finally revealed!**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Beachside Respite**

In the aftermath of her first major duel with Saya Kobayashi, neither Meg nor Seron were in a mood to continue exploring. It was hardly surprising, as after being pulled out of the swamp Meg was soaked in mud and her clothes ruined. No one in the Newspaper Club protested, as they had gathered plenty of clues already from their exploration. Jenny was very excited about what she had found in Gorka Village, especially, as she said it could change the nature of the entire investigation.

So it was they headed back to their ship, just as the submarine was being retrieved by the ship's crew. Meg spent the better part of an hour in the showers to clean all the mud and dirt out of her hair and off her face while Seron overlooked the findings of the marines from the shipwreck.

There was quite a diverse assortment of artifacts from the ship, which surprised even Seron. Laid out on the top deck spread out on a blanket, everything from personal affects and possessions of sailors and officers to the ship's anchor, which was as large as a table found in a banquet hall. Among the smaller pieces, there was a statue in the shape of a hippo wearing a robe, a bust of the then Bezelese king, and the dress sword of an officer. The larger pieces included a naval shell complete with the brass casing and the ship's telegraph.

"These could even fit in a museum," Seron thought aloud as he entered his cabin.

"I agree," Meg replied. "They all look so valuable. It's such luck we were able to even collect them!"

Seron turned around in a shock, fully expecting Meg to still be in the shower. Upon seeing her, it was like she never had even fought Saya in the woods. Meg's violet tresses were left free to hang down below her shoulders, which had an alluring glisten from the lingering shower water. Her old beige dress was tossed in favor of another one-piece dress, bright pink in color, belted just below her bust. The hem ended just short of mid-thigh, which had Seron slightly puzzled. She surely would have learned her lesson from today...

"Meg, you're out sooner than I anticipated. Hope you feel better, now." The older girl smiled as she found a nearby seat with Seron.

"Turns out, the mud came off as soon as I went into the shower. Honestly, I'm glad for that. I would have hated to stay in there for two hours just to clean the mud off."

"Waiting two hours?" Seron remarked in deadpan jest. "That would be equivalent to torture for me."

"And by the way, you owe me 50 roxes for seeing my panties," Meg countered, her infectious smile intact.

Seron's humorous mood disappeared into the air and only sat in stunned silence, his face slowly growing redder with each passing minute. He never thought Meg could have such a cheeky sense of humor. As the blush deepened, Meg's smile only grew wider into a grin, until she was laughing quietly from her boyfriend's reaction. Despite his status as a school star, he could be lovably awkward.

"Calm down, okay?" Meg said through her giggles. "I was just kidding!"

He was undeterred, and only leaned closer to her. He surprised her with his own witty retort.

"I will say one thing: strawberries look very cute on you." Taken aback, Meg's cheeks were sprinkled with a shade of a gentle pink as her face inched closer to his.

"Why thank you, my dear."

"Any time. I love you..."

Seron's lips gently touched hers, and Meg's previous feelings of embarrassment melted away. At least it wasn't a total stranger who saw her, she thought. She trusted Seron more than anything, and...it didn't seem as severe if it was him. As she broke apart from his smooth lips, Meg pressed her face towards Seron's chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and heard his steady heartbeat.

"Seron, I'm afraid."

There was a moment of silence before Seron asked,

"What do you mean?"

"There's some much opposition in our journey to my grandfather's treasure. I had no idea that Kobayashi would go so far as to summon mercenaries to hunt us down. What if coming to this island was a mistake? What if we lose a friend during this madness? I don't think I would ever live with that. And if I were to lose you...I don't think I could go on."

"Meg..."

The Beezelee girl looked up at Seron and released her hold on him. A hidden sadness was replaced with a small smile.

"Heh, sorry! I just wanted to get that out of my chest, you know? We've been through a lot and it's our first day on the island."

However, Seron could see through the thin, fallacious smile, and tried to console her.

"I know what you mean, Meg. I'm no stranger to doubt. I even doubted if telling everyone we were couple was a good idea, if you recall. But you told me no. That we shouldn't be ashamed."

"Seron...?"

"It's clear that Saya is not going to give up without a fight, but that just means we have to be careful. Remember: she's not interested in the treasure, like the Church brothers were. If we find it, then we can get out of here and back to the capital. If need be, I will take care of Saya myself."

"You will? How?"

"By telling her straight to her face that this is madness."

Meg shook her head, doubtful.

"It's not as easy as you say. I mean, for heaven's sake, I tried to make Kobayashi see reason, and look where it got me. If I can't convince her, then..."

Seron only gripped Meg's shoulders before pressing her to his body. Meg's heart skipped a beat, surprised at how soft and emotional he could be. She must truly be special to him if he was showing this side of himself to her.

"Stop. Don't say anymore. Even if we meet her again, you have me, and everyone else in this club. It's like what Jenny and Nicholas said on the train to Montessaret. You won't face her alone, and we have everyone for backup."

Meg sighed deeply and stayed still, allowing his warmth to soothe her.

"Thank you, Seron, for everything."

As the couple broke apart again, there was knock at the room door.

"Guys? It's me, Larry. Time for the meeting!"

"Well," Meg said, somewhat defeated, "our alone time was good while it lasted."

"Agreed," Seron said, smiling lightly. "But, there will be others." Meg nodded with a grin.

"Indeed."

Hand in hand, Seron and Meg both left the room to join the Newspaper Club. They still needed to figure what their next move would be.

Meeting once again in the mess hall of the freighter, the Newspaper Club compiled their findings. Despite the expedition to the island being cut short, there was quite a few things of note to find on the island, and Jenny could not stop hyping about how she found a groundbreaking clue in Gorka Village.

"We know for a fact that Sir Maximilian was on the island, now," Nicholas revealed. "Larry and I found one of his naval buttons from his uniform near a battlefield further south."

"We're definitely on the right track," Natalia concurred. "The trail led us to that village where Saya's mercenaries ambushed us."

Meg's fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt and she bit her lip. It was still unbelievable to think that Saya Kobayahi would deliberately target them and even try to kill them if it meant getting back Seron. Was she desperate or just insane?

Larry was quick to move off the subject of a gun battle with the mercenaries and addressed Jenny directly.

"So, Jen, you said you found something that could lead us to the treasure?" Jenny nodded, and produced the two torn journal pages she found.

"Yep! When we were in Gorka village, I found a couple of pages with some writing on it. My Bezelese isn't the best, but I think it could give us a clue as to where Meg's granddad went."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense! What did it say?"

She laid out the two pages on the dining table and read them out, somewhat hesitantly. The tone of the pages indicated an address to someone. As Jenny read in her less than confident Bezelese, Meg stepped in to fill in the blanks. Together, they created their new trail to follow.

"To Viktor, Friedrich and Alphonse: if you found these notes, know that you are standing in the village where I fought with our countrymen during the Green Island War. After my ship was scuttled, I escaped to this place hoping to find soldiers that could get me back to our homeland. In this village, I watched as the men of the Royal Guard stood against repeated assaults by Roxchean troops. They were destroyed in three days' fighting, and I had to flee this island altogether.

"My boat crash-landed at the base of the Central Mountain Range while trying to escape the Roxcheans, and in those mountains, I found something quite extraordinary. If you have found these notes, then you must proceed to the Central Mountains and follow these coordinates. There you will find something that will change our lives, and the fate of the world, for all time."

Meg, who lay at the heart of this entire expedition and this long journey to uncover her grandfather's story, was the most impacted. She only stared, somewhat longingly, at the scraps of journal paper and lightly curled one in her hands. Just what did he hide? What did he want all his sons to see?

"Are we sure this is Maximilian?" Nicholas asked, not wanting them to be led astray.

"It _is_ him," Meg said, her voice harder than stone. "He was addressing his three sons. Alphonse, the youngest, is my father." Seron blinked, and crossed his arms, nodding.

"Then we have to go to the Central Mountain range, and follow Maximilian's instructions. Though I have to wonder why he did not include them in his journal from the start."

"I suspect it is because he did not want the military police to know. After the war ended, he was one of the few people who advocated for making a permanent peace with Roxche, so that earned him suspicion from the government."

"That means he had to have left these clues here, in order not to arouse suspicion of authorities."

"Exactly. It would be too easy to just leave the directions right in the journal, when the police could easily confiscate it."

Larry leaned back, thinking over what the next best action was. It was too late in the day to go right to the Central Mountains, and even if they wanted to, how would they get there from here? Their ship was not the fastest in the world.

"I will ask the captain to set a course for the Central Mountains tomorrow. Although, it may take the better part of a day getting there."

"That's where you're wrong, Hepburn!" a familiar voice said from across the mess hall.

All members of the Newspaper Club looked up to find the same jovial marine that assuaged their fears the day before.

"Lieutenant Sullivan!" they all greeted in unison.

"D'you kids forget about that seaplane we brought with us? We can easily use it to get to the Central Mountains, if that's where the trail leads."

"Can it get us there, Lieutenant?" Larry asked, wanting to be certain. Sullivan nodded firmly.

"Sure it can! That seaplane was used as a recon plane back in the war days, so it's well-suited. Although, there may not be enough room for all of ya to fit in."

"How many _can_ fit in?"

Sullivan was joined by another man, older and wearing a neatly trimmed mustache. Rather than a marine's uniform he wore the pilot's jacket, and even bore the emblem of the Roxchean Air Force on his lapel.

"There's room for three, only," the pilot said. "I'll be flying it, which means two of you can come to find this treasure."

The club members looked around, wondering who was best-suited for the final search. Jenny and Natalia were not as eager, given their close brushes with the mercenaries in the village. Larry offered to go, but the ultimate volunteers surprised everyone.

Seron stood up, and Meg with him, clasping his hand tightly. Their eyes met each other's, and a silent battle of words waged with their gazes being the field. 10 seconds passed before they both looked to the pilot and said,

"We'll go."

"Meg, are you sure?" Jenny pressed. "I know that Saya got you bad in that fight, but there's no reason to go out again."

"Whatever my grandfather left in the mountains is meant for me, Jenny. I have to do this, if only to bring closure."

"And what if Saya is waiting for you there?"

"I'll be there to greet her," Seron added, squeezing Meg's hand affectionately. "She won't stop if one of you tells her, and she certainly won't listen to Meg. I'll be there to set her straight."

"Seron…"

Larry sighed, seeing the steely resolve behind the wall of blankness of his friend's cobalt eyes. He only stood up and handed Seron something for safekeeping. The black-haired boy looked down and saw it was a semiautomatic pistol with a leather grip. The pistol had a silvery finish, almost luxurious by military standards. On the grip was the emblem of the Roxchean Armed Forces, the Arrow of Theron.

Seron looked back up at his friend, and wanted to protest.

"Larry, I can't take—"

"You can, and you should. If the bomber in Montessaret and the mercenaries in Gorka were any indication, Saya is not above using murder to get what she wants. You might have to take her down if she gets too desperate…"

"Y-you don't mean…?"

"If you want a future with Meg, then you should be ready for whatever stands in your way."

Meg looked over at Seron, and sensed an ounce of trepidation. It was not the first time he used a weapon, but it was hardly a welcoming prospect. If there was a way out of this without violence, they'd gladly take it. Saya had already crossed the line and entered that lethal realm; was there any way back?

Seron bit his lip, and sighed. He did not like it, and he hoped it would not come to this, but if he must…

"Very well. We'll leave for the mountains tomorrow morning." The pilot smiled, perhaps seeing the conviction of his younger self in them.

"I'll be waiting for you two at the catapult, then," the pilot said, and bid them a pleasant rest of the afternoon.

When Sullivan left, all that the club had was each other and the clamoring commotion of the commissary. It was at this point that Natalia suggested,

"Say…why don't we all go to the beach while there's still some daylight?"

"I dunno, Nata," Jenny thought aloud. "It's kinda late, and we ought to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow. It'll be a long day."

"For us, you mean," Seron reminded her, sitting back down. "you guys will be here on the ship all day."

"I could use some relaxation after everything today," Meg concurred, joining her boyfriend.

"We all could," Larry said quietly, morosely, rubbing his hands together. "After that disaster in the village, I'm pooped."

"This is spring break, after all," Nicholas put in at last.

The consensus had been reached, and even fearless, plucky Jenny had to relent, albeit with a reluctant groan.

"Yeah, I could use the time to unwind, too…"

* * *

Despite the sun slowly sinking and the fading afternoon light, the club had enough strength to change out of their street clothes and into swimming attire. Even Meg, who Seron thought would be the least enthusiastic to go back into water, did not want to pass up a chance to wear her newly acquired swimsuit, or "bikini," as the tailor called it.

The "bikini" was made up of two pieces, one covering her bust, resembling a brassiere while the other covered her center and backside. It bore a pattern of red and white horizontal stripes, and held together by red cords. It was something that had become all the rage recently, according to the clothier in the capital, and popular in the summer for beachside trips. She had some doubts about wearing it, but when Seron assured her it looked good on her, she put them away, and took the bikini with her. In a way, this was needed for her to take her mind off the first encounter with Saya Kobayashi. It was a chance to relax, to be free, and to look pretty for her boyfriend.

Meg stood on the diving board overlooking the cove, the distant calls of her classmates and friends clearer than the blue sky. The smell of salty water filled her nostrils with a sense of calm, and the sparkling surface of the beach reminded her of a diamond exhibit. All that remained for her was to join her friends there, as they swam towards the golden beach of Freiburg Cove.

She smiled and jumped on the diving board, hoping to gain enough height in the air before finally plunging into the clear river water. Meg laughed at the feeling of being in midair, reminding her of the many days she would spent jumping on the bed hoping to find that one moment of weightlessness. Nothing could spoil this outing now, she thought as her feet came to rest on the board again.

However, her hubris gave way to yet another mishap. As she came down, she landed on the very edge of the board and right on her heels. With the lack of a solid surface to rest, her balance was compromised, and her feet slid off into the open air. Meg did not scream, since she knew that her fall would not be fatal, but she failed to suppress a yelp of surprise as she passed the diving board and into the water below.

Thus, Meg was left flailing in mid-air, just before she hit the water with a loud splash.

After a brief moment to register what happened, she quickly swam up, gasping for air upon breaking the surface.

"Hey, Meg! You better hurry up if you want to play some volleyball!"

"I'm coming!"

Meg started swimming, keeping her eyes on the shore, where everyone and her boyfriend were waiting.

On the beach, Larry and Nicholas were busy setting up a volleyball net for a friendly game. Natalia was quick to place bets with Larry about their prospects for who would win.

"So, if the girls win, we get to decorate the newspaper club room. And if the boys win..."

"You swear off ice cream for a whole semester," Larry challenged, smiling knowingly.

"WHAT?!" Natalia exclaimed, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Jenny snickered, while Natalia could only groan in frustration. Having the biggest appetite never got them in trouble in the past, and it seemed harmless to her. Her childhood friend and classmate only pressed the matter.

"What's the matter? Scared you'll lose?" Natalia threw a water float at Jenny.

"Hey, you're on our side, remember?"

The bespectacled beauty turned back to the boy with cropped blonde hair.

"Damn it, I can't believe you're using my appetite as a weapon."

"Honestly, I'm surprised. You eat so much and I've never seen you gain a kilogram. Even after eating the biggest piece of chocolate cake the mess hall had to offer, you could still fit into that swimsuit? You must share your secret, Nata."

Natalia looked herself over, noting the one-piece asparagus green swimsuit of hers did not feel too small at all. She only adjusted her glasses and gave her signature half-grin.

"That's a secret you'll never know, Larry."

"Or will he know...?" Jenny asked with a mischievous glint.

Annoyed by the redhead's relentless teasing, Natalia threw the beige beach ball at Jenny's direction, hitting her straight in the face.

"You stay out of this!"

Jenny was sent flying back in a backward spin, the frills on her rather girly one-piece yellow swimsuit fluttering in the breeze as she fell into the sand.

"I think I have a new bet," Jenny said as she stood up. "If the boys win, Natalia doesn't get her hands on a ball for a whole year..." Larry laughed whole heartedly.

"Alright, then, girls! It's a deal."

"Come on, Meg!" Jenny shouted towards her friend. "Hurry up over there so we can kick these boys' butts at volleyball!"

Meg emerged from the water and readjusted her bikini bottom. Her indigo eyes looked up to see the entire club forming into camps on opposite sides of the net: her boyfriend, Larry, and Nicholas on one side, and her friends Jenny and Natalia on the other. Meg couldn't help but laugh to herself as she ran up the beach to join the girls' side, reminded of the times she played with her brothers in games along similar lines.

Boys vs. girls. Some things never change.

Just as Jenny was readying the first serve, a small drop of moisture landed on her rose-colored hair. Then another. And another. Soon the soft patter of rain became a torrent, and a loud thunderclap cancelled any hopes they may have had for a fun, good-natured volleyball game. Instead, the high winds whipped and pried at the net until it almost flew off into the sea. Natalia looked through the maelstrom, hoping to find some shelter from the storm that was approaching. Could nothing go right for them?

Then she saw a vague outline of darkness in the distance. It appeared to offer some shelter from the blowing wind and the pounding rain.

"Over there! We'll hide behind that dune!"

The club did not need any further motivation, and all sprinted through the storm towards the dune. They did not mind the rain, so much as the whistling wind made it difficult to see or enjoy much of anything. Sand swirled around like dancers for a king and burned their eyes before finally finding respite beneath the dune. It was tall enough and sturdy enough to shield them from the wind, and offered a natural canopy from the rain. There the six sat, huddled together for warmth and wondering what they could do to pass the time.

"We could go back to the ship?" Nicholas suggested, wringing out excess water from his long hair.

"Are you out of your mind, Nick?" Jenny shot back. "No way I'm going back out there! We'd likely all drown in the water if we tried to swim!"

"Best we can do is just wait it out," Larry concurred. "Just stay here 'til it passes."

And so, the newspaper club did just that. They sat and waited for the storm to pass. However, the cold rain was starting to have its effect on the kids as Jenny shivered her birches off.

"Damn, it's cold out there!" Jenny complained as she looked around for some warmth.

Seeing Nick sitting beside her, she jumped at the chance. She outstretched her arms and hugged him tightly.

"Gimme your warmth, Nick!"

Nicholas could only sigh at the sensation, with Jenny clinging to him like a frightened child would to her father. He lightly rubbed her head as he looked out at the powerful eddy pounding the beach.

Meg had the same thoughts, as she instinctively leaned on Seron, who blushed at the sensation.

"How about I find some rocks to start a fire instead?" Larry suggested, standing up to start his rock and twig searching.

"Good idea," Natalia agreed. "I'll help."

Meg sighed with light frustration. Even when they were all just relaxing at the beach, the tables were turned against them.

"The gods must really have it in for us."

"I wonder if we ever got this unlucky on previous club outings?" Seron muttered to himself.

"Don't jinx it for us, you guys!" Nicholas joked. "The trip is not over yet." Meg laughed quietly.

"True, true. At least there's no lightning, and we're all in our bathing suits anyway."

"And," Natalia put in as she placed the last stone in a circle, "it's a good thing I put my guitar here, else it'd be wrecked out in that rain. Not a total loss."

The other kids clapped and cheered as Natalia prepared her instrument. Larry managed to create a small warm fire for the club as they all wondered about what song to play at a time like this.

"Maybe something old school?" Seron asked.

"How about a folk song? I know one from my homeland," Meg suggested.

"No, no, no! Let's sing a poppy tune!" Jenny insisted.

Larry leaned back against the dune, and tried to block out all the competing suggestions. Thinking back on all he had seen and experienced earlier on the island, he thought of something far more appropriate.

"I'd like to hear a war song. One from this time." Natalia smirked as she smoothed out a lock of hair from her eyes.

"Only you would suggest that, Larry."

"What?" Jenny said, pouting. "Larry, that's too gloomy! We need something uplifting here!"

"Actually," Seron thought aloud, "I'd like to hear it too."

"Yes, so do I," Nick agreed.

Natalia adjusted the strings and had one song already prepared, and one that fit what Larry was looking for. It was a Roxchean marching song that came from this conflict, and resembled an anthem, telling stories of resolve, hardship, and camaraderie.

Strumming on the guitar, she struck a steady, if somewhat brisk rhythm. Natalia plucked the strings which set the melody, and surprised everyone with her singing, which, in the windy conditions and the heavy rain, sounded loud and clearer than a spring day. The lyrics repeated twice, together with a background chorus.

 _Long Live the 15_ _th_ _Brigade (rumba la rumba la rumba la)_

 _Which is covered in glory! (Oh, Daniella, Oh, Daniella!)_

 _We landed on Green Island in the night (rumba la rumba la rumba la)_

 _To liberate it from the Westerners. (Oh, Daniella, Oh, Daniella!)_

 _Our only desire is (rumba la rumba la rumba la)_

 _To defeat the barbarians of the setting sun (Oh, Daniella, Oh, Daniella!)_

At this point, the other members of the club began to clap in sync with Natalia's guitar, and others joined in to provide the chorus needed to finish the song. Seron only clapped, as his singing skills were less than sub-par, and every time he tried to sing it threw everyone off-key. Meg stifled a laugh; Seron had a reputation for being good at everything, but singing was his only weakness.

 _On the Cape Laz fields (rumba la rumba la rumba la)_

 _We had no airplanes or tanks (Oh, Daniella, Oh, Daniella!)_

 _We are leaving Green Island (rumba la rumba la rumba la)_

 _But we'll keep fighting on other fronts (Oh, Daniella, Oh, Daniella!)_

Natalia concluded the stirring song with a flurry of strums on the guitar, which seemed to fill everyone with hot energy to keep fighting. Even if the war was long over, and peace had reigned for more than 15 years, something about old marching songs was inspiring. Perhaps they served as a reminder of the suffering of untold hundreds of thousands who gave their lives to secure their futures today.

The entire Newspaper Club erupted in applause, and Jenny even whistled in approval, much to Meg's silent amusement. Seron only applauded, his deadpan expression completely unchanged. Still, she sensed that he had to have enjoyed it as much as her, if not more. He said quietly to her,

"Even a rainstorm can have its benefits." Meg smiled, and snuggled next to him.

"In more ways than one," she added.

Her silky violet-tinged tresses found a resting place on Seron's bare back, and his hand found a grasp around her waist. As they looked out into the ongoing tempest, neither of them felt the least bit afraid. They had their campfire, their friends, Natalia's songs and music, and not least of all, each other for company.

Natalia took requests for another song, but Meg and Seron were more content to just hold each other tightly, looking on into the rain from beneath their canopy. The war songs, the swirling squall outside, and the numerous tribulations of their past only drove them closer, and exchange quiet, sentimental words. It was at this moment when Seron finally had the courage to ask her something he had been wanting to ask since the moment he met her.

"Meg?"

"Yes, Seron?"

"When we come back from this trip, are you planning on going to the Summer Dance?"

"Well, I would…if I had a dance partner…"

Her indigo eyes looked up to him, like a puppy begging its master for food. His heart ached at that longing look in her eyes. Did she know how charming she was, or was she blissfully unaware?

"Say, Meg…I'm wondering…"

"What is it?"

"If you're still planning…to go to the dance, that is…I wonder if…"

Meg sensed what he would ask, but she was unrelenting. She was determined to make him ask her, and not the other way around. She could be teasing, and even have a mean, mischievous streak to her.

"You wonder if?"

"I wonder if…you'd have me as a dance partner."

Meg, satisfied, smiled and laughed. Such a lovely sound, her laughter. It was like the voices of angels calling him to Paradise. She did not hesitate to say, sporting the brightest grin he ever saw on her,

"I would love nothing better."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"But, I have to ask you something in return."

A shiver went up his spine at the prospect, and he felt his throat grow dry. What could she demand of him for taking part in a great honor as the Summer Dance?

"When summer vacation rolls around, I want you to come back to Sous-Beil with me. I want you to see my hometown, and meet my parents." Seron's lips curled upwards a centimeter, almost invisible to all but her.

"It's a deal. I would love nothing better."

Their pact was sealed with a soft kiss of Seron's lips to her cheek, before resting his head on top of hers. And when the storm eventually cleared, and they were free to swim back to the ship, Meg was not left afraid. Even though their trip had been dogged by mishaps and unexpected surprises, she was undeterred. If Seron and her friends were at her side, there was nothing that could stop them.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: The penultimate chapter still has some surprises in store for those who will read it! And it features one of the best things about the Allison and Lillia series: planes. Hope you all enjoy this one, since I had a lot of fun writing it. Next chapter will be the conclusion!**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Hard Landing**

There was a low fog hanging over the island as the Newspaper Club awoke to see off Meg and Seron. This would be the moment when they embarked on the final leg of the treasure hunt: a journey to the Central Mountains, where Sir Maximilian fled to escape the slaughter on the island. It would take far too long for the ship to reach the Lutoni River's confluence, so there was only one reliable way to get to the base of the Central Mountains: a seaplane.

The freighter carried a military-grade reconnaissance seaplane designated Ar-196. It had seen widespread use in the Green Island War in the Roxchean Navy, and even among some Bezelese ships. Mounted on a catapult it was stabilized by two floats and powered by a single nine-cylinder radial engine capable of over 700 horsepower. Given how it was only meant for reconnaissance, the plane was lightly armed: only a single MG-15 machine gun mounted at the rear seat provided any defense.

Painted a bright green with white accents (the colors for the Roxchean Navy), it reminded both young people of the same kind of planes that would fly over the island not 15 years prior. Now these same planes had become all but pointless in a postwar world, save for expeditions like theirs or tourist flights. It was a feat that they had this piece of hardware at all to help them, let alone that it was still around.

In preparation for the final flight, Meg and Seron had donned pilot's jackets and khaki trousers tucked into tall all-purpose boots. To their classmates, they looked like any other air force pilot from the war, but only Seron carried a weapon on his person: the semiautomatic pistol given to him by Larry. He prayed silently he would not need it, but after the various surprises on this journey, he was not as certain. He hid his apprehension well behind his stoic visage as each club member wished them luck in turn.

"You didn't forget the instructions, did you?" Jenny reminded them.

"I have them," Meg assured, producing the coordinates from her jacket pocket. "Grandfather was quite thorough with his instructions."

"They're all in Bezelese, though, aren't they? Won't be much good to the pilot."

"I can translate," Seron said at last. "They're easy enough to understand."

Jenny crossed her arms, and nodded, thoughtfully. The normally feisty and excitable girl was surprisingly pensive and calm, given the circumstances. Was it the recent string of mishaps that tempered her excitement, or was it fear of something else?

Larry gave his best friend a strong and tight embrace, as if to transfer some courage. As he pulled him in, Seron heard him say in a low whisper,

"Remember; if you love Meg, you have to protect your future with her."

Seron's fingers gripped tightly at the back of Larry's shirt in trepidation. Just what else would their group have to endure to finally take the treasure? Would the treasure ultimately be worth it all in the end? Such questions would have to be considered on another day, but for now, the treasure was the top priority for all.

Natalia gave Meg some final consolation before they joined the pilot. She needed it, after the numerous missteps on this expedition.

"I can't help but feel like this is my fault," Meg admitted quietly. "If we just left this whole business alone with the model ships, we wouldn't be here."

"Don't talk like that, Meg!" Natalia cajoled her. "You wouldn't be with Seron right now if it weren't for this whole business! Besides, whatever your grandfather left behind, he wanted to share it with his family. No one should take that away from you."

The tall bespectacled beauty rubbed her friend's head affectionately as if Meg was her little sister. A small ray of sun broke through the fog and glinted off Natalia's glasses as she said finally,

"Best of luck out there!"

When all good wishes and final words were exchanged, Meg and Seron climbed up the steps of the catapult and greeted the pilot, who was just getting into the first seat. He smiled, the hairs of his mustache slightly rustled in the morning wind.

"Straussky, you're in the second seat. Maxwell, the rear. Both of you climb in and strap up; don't want you to be thrown about once we get airborne."

Both did as they were told, and found their respective spots in the seaplane. They also effectively bound themselves to the seats with the various belts and buckles, but Seron was somewhat lost in a trance when he found what awaited him at the rear seat: the machine gun. Loaded with a double-drum magazine holding 75 7.92-millimeter rounds each, the muzzle of the gun pointed up half-listlessly towards the sky. If anyone tried to take them down in the air, this gun would be their only means of defense. And he would have to pull the trigger.

Seron's foot nearly slipped on the floor of the cockpit as he stepped in, but managed to hold onto the frame of the plane. Settling himself in and strapping the various cords across his body, his cobalt eyes were simply stuck on the machine gun's sights. Just what was he willing to do to protect Meg?

" _Seron? Can you hear me?"_ Meg chirped through the radio.

Her voice almost made Seron leap from his chair, but a light, delicate hand rested on his shoulder. He looked behind him and saw Meg strapping her pilot's cap with her free hand, a wistful smile on her lips and a glimmer of hope in her indigo eyes, hidden behind her goggles.

"I can hear you, Meg. What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're here with me."

"Of course, I'm here," he said, his voice laced with surprise, "and I still will be here after this is over."

Meg's hand grasped his even tighter.

"We've got to hang together…!"

At last, the pilot joined them in the seaplane and climbed into the front seat, where all the major controls lay to move the plane. He spoke briefly through the communicator in the plane.

"Are both of you strapped in?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, lieutenant. We're ready."

"Straussky, you have the coordinates?" Meg nodded.

"Yes, I do. Seron can translate them for me."

"Very well. Let's not waste time, then."

The club watched with baited breath as the cockpit roof was closed. Sullivan came by and gently nudged Larry.

"You kids might want to stand back for this next bit."

Inside the cockpit, the pilot communicated with the ship's bridge. Meg and Seron listened in as the ship's crew went through the stages of readying the catapult.

" _Bridge to seagull, do you copy?"_

"I read you, bridge," the pilot responded. "Send traffic."

" _Start your engine and prepare for launch."_

"Roger."

The pilot turned a key on his right, and the engine revved. Meg's eyes watched in awe as the propeller slowly rotated with each rev of the engine. It was not often she could see an airplane in action, as she only heard details of how they worked from Lillia. Even then, it was mostly secondhand stories regarding her mother's work or some of her adventures with her friend Treize. Even to hear the chatter seemed an otherworldly experience.

"Engine engaged, at full power."

" _Roger. Moving catapult into launch position. Standby."_

Suddenly, all of them heard a loud whirring, and the plane tremored as the catapult was engaged. Seron looked down, and watched the eyes of the Newspaper Club. All were rapt with wonder as the catapult moved up and swung out to the right, aiming the plane towards the sea. Jenny was the most animated of all, jumping up and down and cheering something none could catch. Natalia held down her skirt while looking on, and Meg thought for certain her eyes were on her. Nicholas only shielded his eyes, smiling confidently as if the battle was already won. Larry stood firm, and Seron felt a sharp lightning bolt strike him every time he glanced over at his best friend.

While they all stayed on this ship, both Meg and Seron would finish this trek. Them, and no one else. The idea was daunting, but it was not as daunting as what they had lived through since they arrived in Montessaret and embarked on this great adventure.

" _Catapult in position. Prepare to launch."_

"Roger. You better hold on, kids!"

A loud, metallic groan followed as the catapult tilted up several degrees, before something snapped.

All at once, the plane's speed jumped as the spring was released and the plane was launched out into open air. The propeller revved and the engine groaned harder as the pilot increased the power as the plane left the catapult and the ship altogether. As they flew out, the pilot gently pulled up on the yoke and the trajectory became a gentle incline. The incline grew steeper as the plane accelerated, the propeller whirring loudly as all three held on to their seats. For Meg and Seron, the experience was akin to being caught in an earthquake, with the frame vibrating almost violently from the engine.

Meg looked to her side and saw their ship shrink quickly away, becoming little more than a dot in the river with the landmass of the island behind it. As for the island, she almost mistook it for a well-made diorama, the kind she might make in arts and crafts class back in school. The island's varied topography became much clearer as their altitude increased. She could even spot the faint wisps of cloud surrounding the high mountains overlooking the rest of the relatively flat island.

The plane circled around, and the pilot spoke through the intercom.

"Bridge, this is seagull. do you read?"

" _Loud and clear, seagull. That was a beautiful takeoff!"_

"Thanks, bridge. We're starting for the treasure coordinates now."

" _Roger that. Keep us updated, seagull."_

" _Meg!"_ Jenny's voice chirped through the intercom. _"Can you hear us?"_

" _Hey, what are you lot doing in here? This is for crew only!"_

" _But those are our friends up there!"_

" _Even so…!"_

Seron had to bite back a laugh at the crackled commotion back on the ship. Jenny never failed to be impulsive, and reliably produced humorous results. Meg couldn't help but laugh as she heard familiar voices clamor for a chance on the microphone. The pilot chuckled.

"Never a dull moment with those friends of yours."

"Indeed," Seron said, unaffectedly. "It makes all the past mishaps we've had more enjoyable."

"I really love them," Meg admitted, softly. "But not as much as I love you, Seron."

" _Um, we can all hear you, you know,"_ Natalia reminded them.

" _Blech, get a room you two!"_ Larry joked.

" _Honestly,"_ Nicholas admitted. _"I'm rather jealous of them."_

"ANYWAY," Seron interrupted, eager to break the cycle of embarrassment, "we're starting off towards the treasure. Meg, do you have the coordinates?"

"Oh, yes, I do. One moment."

"Hurry up, you lot," the pilot pressed. "We only have so much fuel to spare."

Meg reached into her jacket pocket and found the coordinates laid out by her grandfather. She recited them in her native Bezelese, and Seron translated, making sure there was no mistake.

"First fly south, all the way until you hit the river's confluence, and then fly east. At the first fork, turn right and follow the river all the way to a pair of ten-meter high cliffs on either side. When you see a two-peaked mountain on your left, find the river that circles around it. There will be a large plain west of those peaks, where the caverns are. The treasure is in one of those caverns."

The pilot nodded and started to bank the plane to the right, circling around the island until he found his bearings.

"Sounds easy enough. I have to wonder what Straussky's old man hid away that far out, though."

"I'd like to know, too, believe me," Meg admitted. "It's all very mysterious."

"Today's the day we solve that mystery for good," Seron said resolutely.

A small cheer rang out through the intercom as everyone in the club was infused with grit and determination. No matter what happened, no matter who got in their way, this mystery would come to an end today. It had to, lest everything they had endured up to now would be for naught.

Passing over the island and continuing south, the young couple were quiet for a while, simply content to watch the passing scenery. It was an impressive sight to be sure, but a passive affair such as that was hardly exciting. Meg took the time to ask a question, regardless of who was listening.

"Say, Seron?"

"Yes, Meg?"

"You know…you and everyone else know about my grandfather and my family…but I don't know much about yours. What did your grandfather do?"

Seron searched through the catalog of memories, hearing again the old stories passed down to him and his sister from his mother. Truthfully, he did not know much, but one prominent story did stick out in his vast library of recollections.

"My grandfather died when I was young, so I didn't know him personally. There is one story my mother often told me and my sister. During the Great War, he left the Maxwell Frozen Food company to serve in the military, but they barred him from frontline duty. So, he worked in the medical corps."

"What did he do?"

"He worked as a surgeon. He treated the wounded on both sides of the war."

A small bout of silence gripped all in the plane. The whirring of the propeller almost drilled the truth into Meg, but his tight lips begged for more.

"…I see. Was it a hard job for him?"

"He got a lot of flak for treating enemy combatants. Some even thought he was a collaborator for Sous-Beil. It hung over him until he returned to the company."

"I'm so sorry, Seron…"

"Don't be. In many ways, he was like Sir Maximilian. He didn't really hate the west; he just served when his country called. There is nothing shameful about that at all."

"Of course not. I just wish they were treated better for their views."

"War tends to complicate things," the pilot admitted. "I can remember our motivation training back before the mural was found. Our officers would tell us of all the horrible things westerners did. 'All Westerners are murderers,' they said."

Meg laughed ruefully and shook her head in light disgust.

"History is filled with such lies, isn't it?"

"Damn right. But think of it this way, Straussky: now we have a chance to mend all those wounds. Who knows? Maybe your granddad's treasure is something that can bring our nations even closer."

Seron looked behind him and gave his girlfriend a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. Some inkling of reassurance flowed between them, and Meg tightly held onto his hand. Perhaps there was something hidden in those caves that could heal the divide. After all, Sir Maximilian did not agree with continuing the war. Perhaps he found something that led him to seeing a permanent peace as the best option.

"We're coming to the confluence now," the pilot spoke again. "Fly east, you said, yeah?"

"Yes. Then follow the river until the first fork, and go right."

"Roger."

Seron looked down and saw a single ship moored some distance away from the confluence. It was built similarly to their own, and looked to be picking up smaller boats, floating from Green Island. There should be no one on that island! And what was that ship doing so close anyway? Something felt amiss; he could just sense it.

"Pilot, can you descend a bit? There's a ship right there I'm not sure about."

"What are you talking about, kid?"

"On the other side of the island. Look there: a ship is picking up longboats from Green Island."

Meg looked over and saw the ship to which Seron was referring. She had to admit it was rather odd to see another ship, and to see the several longboats returning to the mother ship did make her wonder…

"Could that be…Saya's ship?"

The seaplane dipped down and dropped altitude, just enough for them to make out the ship's name as they flew over it in a circle.

"It's…the S.S. _Aurora_ …"

"What's that thing on the front of the bow? Is that a…gun?"

As if to answer their queries, the ship's bow flared up in a bright orange, and several long yellow beams raced through the skies towards them.

"That's ack-ack…!" the pilot said in a fright through the radio.

Sure enough, one explosion rocked the airplane on its right, followed by another closer to the rudder. The plane shook violently from the explosions, and the Plexiglas in the cockpit window cracked, to a horrified shriek from Meg. The pilot quickly made evasive maneuvers and banked the plane out of the way of incoming fire. More anti-aircraft shells followed them in a trail as the plane accelerated towards the mountains.

" _Meg! Seron!"_ Jenny screeched through the radio. _"What's going on up there?!"_

"It's Saya," Seron said calmly. "Her ship spotted us. Seems she brought some heavy weaponry to try and stop us."

"She ain't stopping us," the pilot promised as he turned hard away from another explosion.

Another explosion grazed the rudder of the plane, and shook all of them in the cockpit with the force of a volcano blast. What once was a leisurely glide become a rough and hair-raising series of acrobatics through the air. The pilot was amazingly quick at handling the plane as he led it through a serpentine path through shells and bursts of smoke.

" _Turn back now, seagull!"_ the bridge radioed. _"Turn back! We'll find another way to the caverns!"_

"NO!" Seron bellowed, his voice hoarse with frustration.

Meg looked around to see her beau's face contorted in anger. It was rare to see him display such emotion. Always he was a calm, stoic boy who never even broke a smile. To see him so incensed, so outraged at all that had happened to them was not only shocking…but terrifying.

"We've come too far, and worked too long and too hard for anyone to stop us now! If we turn back, Saya wins! It's all or nothing this time, and I REFUSE TO LOSE TO HER!"

That outraged declaration of fortitude earned a loud and hearty cheer through the radio from the bridge. Even as it crackled and the reception drifted in and out, the voices of the Newspaper Club members inspired them to press on and fly east, following the trail of the east river.

The pilot cracked a smile at the overlapping cries of encouragement from the students and did another roll out of harm's way. At the same time, he tried his best to follow the path Meg laid out as she frantically spoke through the radio.

"Follow the river all the way until the first fork! Then go right until you hit a pair of ten-meter cliffs!"

"GOT IT!"

The plane lurched sharply to the right, but in so doing, also ran straight into another anti-aircraft shell, and a violent, loud boom almost ripped the plane apart. A large cloud of smoke choked them all and wrapped the cockpit window in a blanket of black. When the pilot checked his systems, he learned the terrible damage.

"They hit our engine."

Every party member was alight with suggestions, confusion and chaos.

"What?!"

"NO!"

" _Get out of there, seagull! You're a sitting duck!"_

The plane shook harder than usual, and the altimeter's needle started to dip down. It would not be long before they had to make a hard landing.

"There's not enough fuel to get us back," the pilot warned the young people. "You'll have to make it to the caverns on your own."

"We don't know how long that could take!" Meg protested. "The plane was the fastest way!"

"Please, Lieutenant," Seron begged. "Just get us as far as you can."

The pilot held back his words for a moment, wondering just what the best course of action would be for them all. Then the bridge radioed again, offering a solution.

" _Give us your coordinates when you land, seagull. We'll send a rescue team immediately."_

A small bout of silence held the plane's occupants captive. It was risky to do, and especially considering the immense distance involved. It was not even a guarantee that they would make it before the end of the day.

"Give them what they want, sir," Meg pleaded. "Otherwise we won't get home."

"Please, Lieutenant. It may be the only chance we have."

There was no other way, lest they drag out the expedition even longer than spring break. He had family of his own to which to return, as well, at any rate.

"Roger that. Will update when landed. Though you might want to start steaming out now."

" _Roger. We'll fire up the engines and head towards the coordinates."_

" _Hang on tight, you two!"_ Jenny shouted at last. _"Stay strong! We're coming!"_

Even in this, the direst of circumstances, Meg could not help but laugh at Jenny's excitable nature and almost boundless energy. Even on a rainy day, she could find a ray of optimism. The pilot in the meantime guided the plane as best he could in a gentle downward grade.

"I can't see too well…the smoke's blindin' me. Straussky, Maxwell, can either of you two see where we are?"

Seron looked over onto his left and right, as did Meg. The smoke trail made it difficult to see much of anything, although a few prominent topographical features did stick out.

"Well…" Seron said aloud, watching below. "I think we're following the river."

"You think or you know?"

"Hold a moment…yes, we're above it."

"And what did you say we have to look for? Twin cliffs?"

"Yes," Meg explained. "They should be on either side of the river, about ten meters high."

The pilot decelerated the engine, thinning out the smoke cloud. It potentially meant taking longer getting to the caverns, but it was the best chance they had of knowing where they were. Something had to be sacrificed for their bearings. As the smoke cleared, the pilot saw ahead two tall cliffs, each facing the other like the posts of a gate.

"There they are!" Meg shouted, pointing ahead.

"Alright, what's next?"

"Look to your left and you should see a twin-peaked mountain."

The pilot's eyes searched around, trying to cut through the cloud of smoke and fuel, all while trying to maintain a stable altitude, which was proving difficult. Seron's eyes saved the day, however.

"There, about half a kilometer or so to the left. Do you see it?"

"Hang on…yes, I see it! Okay, so we head there?"

"Yes," Meg confirmed. "find a river that circles around it, and there will be a large open field on the west side. The caverns are there."

"Alright, you better hang on."

The pilot took the plane lower, not wanting to burn up all their fuel which was rapidly diminishing. The occasional sputter of the propeller and the heaving of the engine did not bode well for them. Each time the engine stalled, the descent grew more rapid. A slight bump rocked everyone in their seats as their plane rode lower and lower through the air…straight towards the twin-peaked mountain.

"I'm almost out of fuel. Sorry, you two; you're gonna have to cover the rest of the journey on foot. Can you handle that much?"

"We can do it. Can't we, Meg?"

Meg was a little hesitant, but in the end, there was not much else they could do. Circumstances were forcing them to make a tough choice.

"Yes," she said finally, her voice trembling. "We have to."

Her whole body was shaking and her heart was ready to burst out of her chest. Was it from the violent shaking of the plane, or the soft touch of Seron's gloved hand on her face.

"It'll be okay, Meg. I promise it will."

"Brace yourselves!" the pilot warned. "We're coming in hard!"

The smoke cleared out as the last of the fuel was burned, and the plane's destination was revealed: the bed of a thin river, circling the twin-peaked mountain. It was not near the caverns, but they could make it on foot if they survived the landing. The pilot frantically radioed the ship his coordinates as Meg and Seron shut their eyes tight. For them, it was akin to being in a violent earthquake as the plane pitched violently from side to side, descending faster and faster towards earth.

Both of their ears popped, and neither could hear the other. All they could do was watch through the cracked Plexiglas as the river grew larger, longer, and the scale of the topography slowly grew. Fearing the worst, Meg closed her eyes and held tightly to her seat's armrests, praying the landing would be as painless as possible.

500 meters above sea level.

400.

250.

100.

The Plexiglas broke, and all they could hear was a loud splash and a metallic crash.


	7. Chapter 7 (END)

**A/N: I'm sorry for being so late! The last few days have been a little hectic, because I had to take a few exams for job applications. But hey, we've reached the end of this story! Here the treasure we have so long wondered about will finally be revealed, and it may not be what you think it is. There is some revelations, some romance, and some riveting gunfights in a final confrontation. So what are you waiting for? Read on and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Sir Maximilian's Treasure**

There was no time to check and see if the pilot was unhurt. Seron could only take him at his word that he would be fine, and they should focus solely on the treasure. That meant leaving the pilot behind with the seaplane, which made a hard landing along the riverbank, just at the base of the twin-peaked mountain. For the rest of the journey, Meg and Seron would have to carry on alone.

So it was they made their way around the mountain, across the open field towards the small openings along the mountain range. Somewhere in those caverns, the treasure sat in repose, waiting to be discovered. Meg led the way across the fields, not minding the mud on her boots as she consulted with her grandfather's directions.

"Meg, do you know which cavern entrance we need?" Seron asked, somewhat uncertain. "If we don't want to get lost, we have to be sure."

"My grandfather said the cavern we want is marked with a military-issue rifle outside. From there, we look for the 12th hole on our right, and the treasure will be in there."

"Did you bring a flashlight? We're going to need it in a dark place like that."

Meg flung off her knapsack briefly and searched through it, just to be certain. She produced a black metallic cylinder, and clicked a button on top.

"Here it is!" she chirped, smiling. "How about you?"

"I have it ready right here," Seron said, pulling out from his knapsack.

"Then, let's keep going."

Seron looked up, seeing how far the mountains reached towards the heavens. It was all but impossible for him to see the summit with his naked eyes, meaning it had to be at least 2,000 meters high. He wondered if perhaps coming back here would a good idea for a date with Meg.

"Say, Meg? Do you know anything about mountain climbing?" Meg looked over her shoulder at him as if he uttered something crazy.

"Um…no, I don't. Why would I know something like that?"

"…it's nothing. Forget it."

Meg shrugged her shoulders and continued, keep an eye out for any rifle that could serve as a marker. Then, something new piqued her curiosity.

"Seron, I have a similar question."

"What is it?"

"Do you know anything about spelunking?" Hearing a new, foreign word, Seron cleaned out his ears to make sure he was hearing right.

"Spe—what? What is that?"

"Oh…I guess you don't have it in Roxche, then. It's just cave exploration. Back in my hometown there is a small tourist company that takes people out to the caves in the mountains every summer."

"Oh, I see. I don't know much about it, honestly. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought…it would be nice if we could do that together…alone…"

Meg's cheeks burned a shade of pink at the thought of them huddled together in a cavern, with no one else for company. It was a strange thought, but a romantic one nonetheless.

Out of the corner of her eye, Meg spotted something red resting against the granite of the mountains. Upon turning to look at it fully, her eyes lit up with hopefulness.

"Seron, I found the rifle! It's here!"

Seron came jogging up behind her and looked down to see it. The rifle apparently had been there long enough to almost completely rust a dark red, and the wood of the stock had almost rotted away from age. However, it was still here, somehow. They were on the right track.

He smiled softly and turned on his flashlight in anticipation for what was to come. The inside of the cavern was almost pitch black, and he thought he heard a dripping from inside. Well, it was spring, after all, he thought.

The stoic young boy took one step in before Meg stopped him with a gentle squeeze of his wrist. He looked to her briefly, and before he could ask what was the matter, his lips and hers connected.

Every kiss seemed a joy, better and sweeter with each time. Whether it was from Meg's choice of food or simply from a shared trauma of this expedition was uncertain. But nothing in the world could compare to the sweet delight he felt with her lips. Her lips parted briefly, but she nuzzled him and rested her head against his.

"Where's this coming from, all of a sudden?" Seron asked quietly.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck," she whispered, almost breathless. "In my own special way."

Seron only held her tightly and rubbed her back slightly. She must be scared, too, since this treasure was intended for her. For any member of her family. The thought of finally coming face to face with whatever her grandfather found in these caverns must be overwhelming. It certainly would be for him, were he in her place.

Despite the situation they were in, and what faced them, he could not help but take in her sweet scent. A faint whiff of fresh fruit, cherries if he was right. How like her to smell so sweet. She was sweet in every sense of the word.

At last they parted and stepped into the darkness, with Meg again leading the way. It was impossible to see much of anything were it not for their flashlights. Even then, walking among the caverns could prove treacherous.

"Meg, which way do we go?"

"My grandfather said to go through the 12th hole on the right. From there, and walk about 20 steps. The treasure will be in there, right where another military rifle is sticking out of the ground."

"All right. Don't get too far ahead. The last thing we need is to get lost in here."

"On that, we can agree."

Seron reached for his semiautomatic pistol, and pulled back the hammer. There was no telling if Saya or anyone else would try to run interference, and if they did, what lay in store for them in these caves. Both had to be ready for anything. Meg's brow was coated in sweat upon seeing that pistol in his hand.

"I hope we don't need to use that…" she said quietly.

"Me neither. But you never know."

Seron mentally counted the caves they passed as they continued down the dank, damp cave. The sound of dripping water filled them with dread, and both had to wonder if the spring thaw would cause a cave-in, or more ominously, explosives were set in anticipation for their arrival.

He willed the thought away, noting that Saya could not know to look for them here, unless she saw them entering the caves beforehand. Was someone on their crew spying and passing information along?

A brief look into one of the right-side caverns revealed a deep hole, but no rifle. Some of the caves were too small to even fit through without crawling on hands and knees, while others dropped down underground. Still, every cavern had no sign of a military rifle.

"Maybe the rifle is gone, or buried," Seron thought aloud. "It has been almost 30 years, after all."

"Maybe. But even so, we should follow the instructions."

"…"

Seron's flashlight shone into the depths of another cavern, revealing only overgrown weeds and a small daisy. Again, no sign of a military rifle anywhere, and the cavern was rather small. If any treasure was there, it would be difficult to find. Seron mentally noted the number.

"We're at cavern number 10. We must be getting close."

"Seron, I think I found the cavern! Come over here!"

Seron looked down and saw Meg staring into another opening to the right. Her eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets in amazement, as if she found something greater than the treasure they were hoping to find. Her flashlight shined on their beacon, the rifle that served as a marker.

There was little left of the military-grade rifle, with only the remains of the barrel, rusted red, sticking out of the earth. The wood of the rifle was all but rotten from age; all that remained was the butt of the rifle and the back end of the stock where the trigger was still attached. Atop a mound of earth from where the rifle jutted out, a small note was attached to the muzzle of the rifle. It was dusty and the writing was all but faded, but Meg slowly read it as Seron took twenty paces further into the cavern.

"To Viktor, Friedrich and Alphonse: if you made it this far, you are to be commended. It is not easy to travel out to the buffer zone nowadays, but this is something that is worth sharing with the world. I used to think that this war between East and West would go on forever, but in this cavern, I found something that will change all of that.

"I apologize for making you go on this crazy scavenger hunt, but there was no other way for me to tell you about this safely. The military police watch everything I do, and I cannot risk them knowing about this find. There are those in the military who would rather us wage war against Roxche forever; the things in this cave will rob them of any reason to fight.

"I beg you, my sons. If you have made it this far, you must share this treasure with the world. We may have had an armistice for only a few years, but I think it is time, now. Both sides are weary of war, and there is no reason to fight another, especially after one as destructive and devastating as the Great War. Share this with everyone you can, so that we may have a permanent peace in our time."

Meg's hands trembled, overwhelmed that she was right on the precipice of learning the truth. At long last, they would learn of the treasure that Sir Maximilian hid from the world. It must be truly extraordinary if it could change the world that drastically.

Looking up, she saw that Seron had stopped in the middle of the cavern. It was rather large, about the size of one of their classrooms back at their school. The ceiling was rather high, where stalactites hung like chandeliers over their heads. But the greatest feature, and the one that had Seron rapt in awe, was painted across the wall behind them.

Meg looked behind her, aimed her flashlight at the walls, and stifled a gasp of surprise at the sight that greeted them.

The smooth walls boasted a range of paintings, dating back to an age before writing. Humans drawn in black, leading what looked to be an ox. Next to them was a small four-legged creature, likely a dog.

"It's a mural…" Meg said quietly, following the images with her light.

"Just like the Mural of the Beacon…" Seron concurred.

Beside the four-legged animal, a group of people surrounded a red fire. More hunters carried what looked to be bows and spears. A horseman. A pair of animals which looked to be sheep. For cave paintings, they were surprisingly realistically drawn. But when Seron's flashlight drifted further up, the centerpiece of the mural revealed itself. And with it, what they were truly looking at became apparent. It was not any ordinary cave painting.

Several men were standing in a row, with two more reaching towards something in the center. It appeared to be some ancient ritual. The object to which they outstretched their hands was a tall beacon, about the height of a full-grown man. One end, lodged in the ground, bore resemblance to an arrow while the other looked vaguely like the crescent of a blade. In the center of the crescent's arc and on either side, zigzag patterns painted red symbolized fire. But there was still more to the mural than that beacon. There were two.

Above the beacon, two men held their own. On the right, a man held the arrow-shaped beacon, with its tip pointed down, and the zigzag patterns on top. On the left, a man held a crescent, where one end was lit by flames. Seron's cobalt eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his hand shook, the beam of light trembling. The normally stoic and deadpan boy was lost in awe. To think this is what Sir Maximilian kept hidden from the world…!

"This…this is…THE MURAL OF THE BEACON!" he exclaimed.

Meg flinched at Seron's sudden burst of emotion. When she examined the two men, and their symbols, her jaw dropped in surprise. She recognized those figures from her history book. The mural that finally ended the war between Sous-Beil and Roxche. The last piece of evidence that revealed the origin of both their countries.

"I never would have thought…" she said slowly, "that…grandfather's treasure would be here, of all places! That makes this search all the more exciting!"

"Yeah, and…wait, Meg, you don't realize?"

Meg looked to Seron quizzically.

"Realize what?"

"We're looking right at the treasure! This is what your grandfather wanted to show to his sons!"

Meg still did not understand, and only tilted her head in confusion. Seron had to suppress a slight moan at that; she could be so cute when she was out of the loop.

"Meg, think carefully. What was the reason for war between our countries?"

"We both claimed that humanity originated from our side of the river."

"Exactly. And what did the Mural of the Beacon prove?"

"That humanity originated from the Central Mountains, and migrated to both sides. The east became the Roxcheanuk Confederation, and the west became the United Kingdom of Bezel Iltoa, or Sous-Beil."

"Exactly. Now, remember what the note on that rifle said?"

Meg reached for the note and re-read it.

"I used to think that this war between East and West would go on forever, but in this cavern, I found something that will change all of that…"

"And what do you think would change it?"

Meg bit her lip, seeing the buzzwords that surely pointed to what was obvious. The idea of robbing the military of a reason to fight. Her grandfather's pleas to share the treasure with the world. His hope for a permanent peace. Admittedly, it did point to a knowledge of something that would totally stop the war. However, there were some things out of place.

"That doesn't explain a few things," Meg countered, apprehensively. "Why not just reveal the truth about the mural in the scrolls of those model ships? Why lead us on a long scavenger hunt?"

"But he _did_ , Meg. Remember the poem in the scrolls?"

Meg thought long and hard, reaching back to what she read on that thin slip of paper. An old poem that, when she first read it, did not make much sense.

"Three brothers joined three Fireflies in harmony, sailing in the morning sun will speak. For 'tis from light that the truth will be found, and then shines forth the sword and the arrow."

Seron's light shone back at the two men holding their respective beacons. Meg looked up and when her boyfriend spoke again, it all became clear.

"See? The Sword of Sous-Beil and Roxche's Arrow of Theron! Right in front of us!"

"Then…Oh Gods…Grandfather…he…!"

At that point, Meg broke down, and the entire cavern echoed in her tears. No wonder he was watched by the military police. No wonder he wanted a permanent peace with Roxche. He knew the truth that would end the decades of bloodshed. He kept it secret until his death, hoping that one day his sons would embark on this journey. She would have been tasked with sharing this with the world, had it not been for that brave Bezelese major who found it almost 20 years ago.

Seron approached his girlfriend and tried to comfort her, but she smiled, somewhat ruefully and said,

"Everyone knows about the Mural of the Beacon now. When Major Carr revealed it back in 3287, that stopped the war. I guess this was all for nothing, right?"

"It wasn't for nothing, Meg. We're not going home empty-handed. We have a story for our club."

"What's the story?"

"The story is your grandfather knew about the mural before it was revealed. There could be hundreds of others who knew about it. Thousands, even. They were just too afraid to say anything or pressured into silence."

Again, Meg could not hold back her tears, and found warmth in Seron's embrace. Her grandfather was an unsung hero whose story would now be told. Even if the treasure was not something they could take back, Sir Maximilian's story could be shared with everyone. Perhaps that would prompt others to come forward and share what they knew. He rubbed her back, and gently held her as one would a frightened puppy. Even though tears wet her cheeks and she tremored down to her knees, there was not an ounce of pain in her voice.

"Thank you so much for coming with me, darling," she said, breathless.

"Any time. It's not every day you get to see a peacemaking monument with your girlfriend."

As he gently stroked her hair, Seron's gaze shifted from his love to their exit. And there, he saw something that made his blood run cold.

There in the cavern entrance, Saya stood eyeing the two of them with a grim, foreboding grin. In her hand, a magnum revolver pointed directly at the two, painted a vibrant silver that flashed in the darkness of the cave. Her dark eyes had a stinging quality to them, almost piercing through the darkness at the couple. When her husky, commanding voice spoke, even Meg had to stem her tears and silence her sobs.

"Sorry to break up the nice little moment, but we have unfinished business."

Meg gasped and looked out to see her rival and their collective ire. Saya stepped in and gazed up at the mural.

"I have to say, I never would have guessed the Mural of the Beacon would be where we settle everything."

"How did you even find us?" Meg asked. "What did you do to the pilot? Is he alive?"

"You shouldn't worry about fly boy, out there, Miss Straussky," Saya hissed sardonically. "And it's rather easy to follow footprints the way you leave them. And your gabbing in the caves doesn't make it hard to track where you were."

"What are you going to do with us?" Seron asked, raising his hands behind his head.

Saya's eyes turned to Seron's, and a slight tremor shook his body. Whether from her gaze or from a disturbance in the earth was uncertain.

"Well, that all depends, my dear Seron. I might even let you both live, and we can walk out like this never happened…"

His hands lowered, and Meg's lips parted in slight shock. She was willing to put all of this away? What would it cost them?

"…if you give me whatever treasure it is you've found."

The class star's brow furrowed, and Meg's voice grew stony, her reprimand of this troublemaker harsher than a parent to a badly-behaved child.

"That's impossible, Kobayashi," Meg revealed. "You can't ransom the treasure."

"And why not?"

"Because it's not something you can take back with you," Seron spat, in a rare moment of contempt.

He shone the light back at the mural behind them.

"You see the Mural of the Beacon? _That's_ the treasure! That's what Sir Maximilian wanted to give to his children! He wanted them to share it with the world, to prove there was no reason for Roxche and Sous-Beil to fight! Unless you can move a mountain, this treasure is not going anywhere. You have no cards to play, Saya."

Saya looked at the Mural and then at the couple. After a moment of silence, the older girl began to giggle. Then, the giggling transformed into laughter. Sarcastic, mocking laughter.

"Oh, please! That mural is the treasure? You have no proof."

"No, it's true," Meg said, completely serious and straight-faced. "I can read you the note my grandfather left."

She recited it again, and to further back up the claim, she again recited the poem on the scroll, and the notes found in Gorka village. The evidence became clear with each word passing. Saya's revolver lowered, her grip loosened, and with it, her sanity slipped.

And just as the evidence presented itself, Saya's expression changed. From a scheming smirk to that of shocked disbelief. The truth couldn't have been anymore surreal. Cruel, almost. There was no luxurious treasure awaiting them. No rare jewels. No artifact of a ruined temple. It was a mural. A cave painting that told the origins of both their nations' peoples, and would eventually solve the question of who came first.

With no leverage over them, all Saya Kobayashi did was smile at Seron, like a mother to her baby.

"Well, then…I guess now you'll have to die before you can tell the tale."

Without wasting anymore time, she aimed the revolver at Meg and prepared to pull the trigger.

Seron shoved Meg aside and reached for his pistol, just as the two of them fired in unison. To Meg's ears, it was impossible to detect who fired first as she fell face-first into the dirt floors of the cavern. Looking up, she saw the damage from the first exchange of bullets.

Despite his limited experience with firearms, Seron handled a gun well enough to wound Saya in the cheek, as the right side of her face was coated in red. However, Seron suffered a minor injury to his upper left arm, a small horizontal tear near the shoulder being evidence of the damage. She could not spot red, but heard Seron wince as he moved it.

"If I can't have you, Seron Maxwell," Saya vowed maliciously, "then neither can Megmica Straussky!"

She squeezed the trigger, aiming right at Seron's heart, but Meg was not about to let her love die in her stead. She charged forward and tackled Saya just in time, butting her head right into her stomach. Saya's revolver discharged, firing a round into the ceiling and breaking off a stalactite. It fell to the ground with the force of a rocket and narrowly missed Seron's nose by a hair's width. Now Saya was fully incensed, and determined to have the thorn in her side cut loose.

"Damn you, Westerner…!"

With all her might, Saya kneed Meg hard and shook her off, staggering back as she tried to regain her footing. She readied her revolver for another shot, but the back of her heel hit something and threw her again off balance. When Meg finally stopped skidding in the dirt, she looked to see Saya careening backwards over a rock. She managed to get off one more shot, which whizzed by Meg's ear. The sound reminded her of an angry, buzzing hornet.

Saya landed head-first behind the stone, but instead of crumpling in a heap, the ground caved beneath her. To her surprise (and everyone else's), Saya fell straight into a sinkhole, only to be stopped short by her wide hips, wedging her in the lip of the hole.

Saya's muffled screams filled the cavern as she kicked her legs futilely in the air, trying to free herself. Meg scurried back to Seron and pulled at his jacket sleeve frantically, guiding him towards the exit of the cavern.

"Let's go, Seron! While she's down!"

Seron, who at this point would normally be jumping to escape, lingered for a moment. His legs could not move, as if frozen, as was the rest of his body. Not only that, but his face was redder than a cherry, and his cobalt eyes wider than discs, stuck in a strange trance. Meg looked back and saw what had caught his attention.

Much like how Meg met a mortifying fate in the swamps on Green Island, Saya had received her own comeuppance here in the caves. Her wardrobe consisted of a knee-length skirt that gravity pulled down, revealing what she kept hidden underneath: a pair of black panties trimmed with lace, and made with satin that almost glowed in the dimness of the cavern. With each kick, her buttocks wobbled, and only sunk Seron deeper into a trance.

The Bezelese girl lightly scowled at Seron's gaze, and jabbed him in the ribs.

"Seron…"

His cobalt eyes looked down into her indigo ones, softly glaring. She pulled him down by the collar and hissed,

"You can only look at _me_ that way. Now let's go, before she frees herself!"

"Umm…yeah!"

They left Saya writhing in the ground, still struggling to pull herself out of the sinkhole and still yelling from beneath the ground. Upon exiting the cavern, Meg ran in place, looking in both directions in desperation.

"Which way did we come from?!"

Seron mentally retraced their steps, and pointed to the left.

"That way. Let's hurry."

There was no hesitation in her step as she bolted out to the left. Seron went after her, checking on the opening behind them. There was no telling when Saya would break herself free.

"When we get out, what should we do?" Meg asked, panting.

"I say we head back to the seaplane and try to get help."

"Do we know if everyone has even arrived?"

"We have no other place to go. If we rendezvous with the pilot, we will have a better chance of fighting off Saya."

"Maybe, but…"

Seron looked to her and, in a rare display of emotion, his eyes narrowed. This was not a moment to argue over details. They were being pursued, and there was no telling when their adversary would be on them again!

"Meg," he said, his voice harder than the mountain's granite, "what would you have us do, instead? One wrong turn in these caverns and we will never get out again. Besides, the pilot radioed our plane's position when we left. If we go back, there may be a chance of meeting up with everyone."

"It may take longer than you think, Seron."

"SEROOOOOOOON!" Saya's voice cried out from behind them.

Seron glanced behind him, and a small arc of his flashlight's beam caught Saya's figure stomping out of the cavern. Her face and upper body was covered in earth, blood, and dust, and her long hair a wreck with twigs stuck in all manner of places. In her dark eyes, a fire burned hotter than any conflagration from conflicts past, and her teeth ground together in anger. Her silver revolver floated up until its muzzle was lined with Seron's face.

"Meg, get out of here! I'll hold her off!"

BANG! BANG!

Two shots echoed and snapped near the walls of the cave corridor. Meg took off in a sprint and Seron, his arm still smarting from the previous wound, found cover behind a stalagmite and took aim with his pistol.

"You're going to pay for humiliating me like that!" Saya vowed.

Seron was undeterred, and upon seeing Saya's silhouette, he fired twice. One round clipped off a lock of Saya's hair, and another grazed her left shin. It formed a crimson sock, and slowed her pace slightly, but the vengeful girl was undeterred. She kept advancing, and Seron, not wanting to be caught alone in the dark, stood up and fired again.

His aim was not as erratic as before, and managed to score a hit just above her right hip. The waistband of her brown skirt clipped off from the bullet, but thankfully for her it was not enough to strip her of her wardrobe. Instead, she stumbled and groaned in pain. Seeing his moment, Seron bolted towards the exit, following Meg's shadow.

"YOU CAN'T RUN FROM ME, MAXWELL!"

As soon as Seron passed by the first cavern, Saya followed the same path, and fired her last round. It proved to be a hit, and Seron was all but blinded in an excruciating pain stemming from his left side. He almost fell out of the exit, right into the arms of Meg who tried her best to pull him away. Saya reached for new rounds, but reasoned two would be enough; their friends surely would not reach them in time.

She lunged forward towards the exit, towards the light and the open plains, following a trail of red. Just when it seemed she was just about to corner the black-haired boy and his girl with violet-tinged hair, her chance of victory was snagged away from Saya in that very moment.

Out of nowhere, a horde of men and women came to the couple's defense. Standing directly in front of them was a group of teenagers at least a year younger than Saya. All of them wore glares of death, and one, a boy with cropped blonde hair, held a polished semiautomatic rifle straight at her. Joining the youngsters were three Roxchean marines, wearing their clean green uniforms and brandishing their own variety of weapons. It was as clear as day that her rampage had come to a pathetic end. That much was made apparent by a stern and commanding sentence from one of the officers of the marine detachment.

"Saya Kobayashi, you are under arrest."

* * *

When Seron Maxwell finally came to, the first thing he saw was the whitewashed ceiling, reminiscent of the boys' compartment on the ship. The first thing he heard was the low hum of the ship's engine, vibrating the hull gently enough to jostle him awake. The first thing he felt was a pain in his left side, just above the hip.

One cobalt eye looked to his left and saw a small pouch of intravenous fluid, flowing down a clear plastic tube…right into his arm. When he tried to shift his body, the pain became sharper, harder, almost pulsating throughout his body like an electric shock. He groaned in pain and let his head hit the pillow, sighing tiredly. What had happened in those caves? The whole fight was little more than a blur, now…

"Where...?"

"You're back on the ship, Seron. You're safe, with me."

Seron looked to his right and saw his girlfriend sitting by his bed. She was just leaving a bookmark on a book she was immersed in and set it gently on a bedside table.

"Hey there. How are you feeling?" Meg asked, slowly brushing a lock of hair away from between Seron's eyes.

"...I have this bad pain in my side. I think Saya shot me just before I got out. What happened?"

"Don't worry about her. She's been detained. The marines are rounding up all her accomplices, as well. We'll be heading home soon."

Seron breathed slowly, his gaze again turning up to the ceiling. At least everything turned out well enough. Although, he wished that it didn't have to come to violence, and him being confined to a hospital bed. He had to wonder what everyone else had to say about this last installment in their catalog of troubles.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Aside from being worried about you, yes."

The boy could not help but laugh ruefully, only to wince from his wound. At least they were spared from all this craziness. But what of Megmica Straussky? Would she be the same after all of this?

"And what about you, Meg? Are you hurt at all?"

"I'm feeling a better now that you've come to. For a while, I thought Kobayashi was going to..." Meg couldn't finish that sentence as she shook her head, wishing away the past morbid thoughts. "Gods...what an adventure we got ourselves into, you know? We might have gone a little over our heads."

"I agree. Who would have thought things turned out this way? After this, I could use a nice vacation. And no more sleuthing for a while."

"You and me both, darling," Meg agreed, softly planting a kiss on Seron's cheek. "And I'm sure the others would feel the same, too."

"At least we got a hot scoop for the school papers."

"About that…" Meg trailed off, hinting at some deeper woe, greater than the one they almost suffered in the caves.

"What's wrong? You didn't tell the club what we found?"

"Of course, I did. I am just wondering if anyone else will believe us. I mean...I still find it quite incredible myself."

"It _is_ incredible, but that's what makes a good story, right? We found evidence that there were others who knew about the mural before that Bezelese major. Maybe there were some in Roxche who knew as well. Our little story could start something much, much bigger."

"Yeah, you're right. And my family will have closure." Meg inched closer to Seron's face as she smiled lovingly at him. "And I have our friends and you to thank for that."

A soft hand gently stroked her cheek, and Seron suddenly felt much warmer as his face was covered by the tresses of her hair. For them, the expedition was over, and while the treasure was not something they could bring back, they had gained something just as valuable. Their bond had been strengthened, and, despite many attempts to drive them apart, they were closer.

 **THE END**

* * *

 **A/N: And so it ends. The sequel that should have been made many years ago finally came and finished, hopefully to everyone's satisfaction. However, I cannot take all the credit for finishing this; I could not have done with without the help from my friend on Fictionpress Kahoruko711. I owe it to you, and this probably would have taken longer to complete if not for your help.**

 **While it was a lot of fun to write fanfiction again, I have say that it's not something I will be doing again soon. I've shifted my focus to my original stories, one of which will be a new historical novel set just before World War II. If you want to keep following me and reading my stories I suggest you find my profile on Fictionpress. That's not to say I won't be doing fanfiction again, but I just don't want to be limited.**

 **Thank you all so much for all of your support.**

 **Historyman101**


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